#anyway. 2024 off to a wonderful start! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

drchucktingle · 11 months ago

Text

THE TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION TELLS CHUCK TINGLE TO STAY HOME BUT WE PROVE LOVE ANYWAY

just when you buckaroos thought 2024 would be a break from book drama, here comes chuck tingle in the mix. recently i was asked to be a featured speaker at the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION annual conference. a few days ago they rescinded my invitation. here is what happened.

(EDITED TO ADD THIS LINK. if you have a hard time reading this on way of tumblr you can also read for free on chucks patreon)

i would like to start off by saying it is not my intent to start a fight, and all those reading this should know that the actions of a few misguided folks do not speak for the whole TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION. i am sure there are many involved who will be very upset to learn what others at TLA have done in their name. there are many individuals here, so please do not paint them all as villains in your mind. besides, chuck loves the dang library everyone knows that.

the point of writing this is not to vilify. i am writing this is because MOMENTS OF DARKNESS are the best places to SHINE A LIGHT AND PROVE LOVE IS REAL. this is a perfect time for learning and growing and for us talk on some very important things that queer buckaroos and neurodivergent buckaroos face every day. this is an unfortunate moment that WE can turn around and use to prove love is real.

i am also writing this to understand some of my own personal feelings on the matter. for something that seems very simple on the surface, the trot is complex, and i am still working out my emotions on the whole dang thing. i am learning in this way.

PART ONE: BAG OF LOVE

a few months ago chuck was asked to be a featured speaker at the 2024 TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION ANNUAL CONFERENCE. i have been asked to do things like the before and it is ALWAYS a fun time to meet bookseller and librarian buds. trotting around face to face and talking about my story of conquering chronic pain and overcoming my mental hurdles is VERY IMPORTANT to me. i say YES to these things whenever i can. (here i am with authors at CALIFORNIA INDEPENDENT BOOKSELLERS ALLIANCE conference. they are a WONDERFUL group and they proved love with their OWN invitation to chuck. this was such a moving event with so many amazing authors and stories. got very teared up during this photo)

ANYWAY BUCKAROOS i get the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION invite and say 'YES BUD LETS TROT'. we are then confirmed.

months pass. a few weeks ago i get a call from my manager and agent and publisher saying ‘the TLA have rescinded their invitation.’

turns out some things had been going on behind the scenes

at some point the TLA asked chucks INCREDIBLE HEROIC BAD ASS PUBLISHER if chuck would be okay with not wearing the mask, to which tor/nightfire/macmillan said ‘what the heck are you talking about of course chuck is going to wear his mask. this is how chuck presents himself’ (NOT EXACT QUOTE)

as you all know, my pink bag way is a VERY IMPORTANT SPACE. as an autistic buckaroo it is a boundary that allows me to express myself freely and relieve my chronic pain from neurotypically masking all day. i have talked about this for years, and it is why i consider my private identity a SACRED THING. it is literally a health issue.

fortunately THE PINK BAG is never really a problem when making appearances. i have spent years going on television shows, doing interviews, speaking at other conferences and conventions, hosting book events on tour, and even MEETING WITH LAWYERS in my pink face covering. it is always respected and that is very validating to my way.

when arriving anywhere i always take precautions. i always warn buckaroos ahead of time that there is a masked man coming. i always have someone go in ahead of me JUST IN CASE. again, there has never been an issue. at a big conference where i am a special guest there is ESPECIALLY not an issue because my face and bio are printed IN THE DANG PROGRAM

SOME FUN TIMES AT BIG EVENTS BELOW:

CHUCK ON TV SHOW NAME OF 'AT MIDNIGHT' BACK BEFORE I WROTE LOVE IS REAL ON MY HEAD:

well, there has never been an issue.... UNTIL NOW.

PART TWO: RESCINDED

a few days ago TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION suddenly messaged my publishers and said that chuck tingle is no longer invited. my invitation was rescinded. the reason given was that people could possibly be uncomfortable with my mask

right out of the gate i would like to say this: it is absolutely the right of the texas library association to disinvite someone from their conference. it is their event, after all, and they can ban anyone they would like, for any reason.

of course, that doesnt mean other folks HEARING THIS NEWS wont have their own opinions the TLA choices. if the TLA disinvites someone, their reasoning for doing this can be discussed and analyzed. whether or not they follow their own guidelines can be questioned, and certainly their kindness and tact can be considered

there are a few BIG POINTS to make regarding this choice from the TLA

first and foremost, i just gotta say buckaroos, it is incredibly rude to invite someone to be a guest speaker at your event, have them confirm and mark off their calendar and turn down other offers, then rescind their invitation. this is maybe the simplest of the points, but it is an important one.

second, (DEEP BREATH HERE WE GO BUCKAROOS) i personally do not think of my autism as a disability very often, but i also KNOW that despite these feelings it ABSOLUTELY IS. autism is important to be listed as a recognized disability because of the help some autistic buckaroos need regarding government programs and things like that. ALSO just because my neurodivergence has helped me in some ways (hyperfocus and a unique artistic sensibility for example). i personally need to step back and remember my battle with stress and chronic pain from having to neurotypically mask all the time. for as much as i love being autistic it has made some things very difficult.

in other words, i am perfectly capable of speaking and interacting with folks without this pink bag on my head BUT WHEN I AM IN THE CHUCK TINGLE SPACE I REQUIRE IT. i can ONLY use this space while covering my face. is not a want. it is a need. holding this boundary is more important than i can ever say. i will not, and can not, let these spaces cross.

TLA not letting an autistic author wear the face cover theyve set up to express their neurodivergence in a safe, healthy way is--for lack of a better term--NOT A GOOD LOOK.

i cannot fathom them disinviting another author for using a disability aid. i cannot fathom them saying that a buckaroo who hears better with a hearing device cannot use it during their panel because it would make others 'uncomfortable'.

but here we are.

PART THREE: WHAT DOES A BUCKAROO GOTTA DO TO GET BANNED AROUND HERE?

this is the TLAs official stance on disability issues according to their website:

when poking around on the TLA website i noticed a few other things. i noticed a previous guest speaker wearing a niqab, and i was left wondering if the religious significance is what make that okay but chuck tingle banned. that made sense until i looked deeper and saw mascot buckaroos dressed up on the exhibition floor, and saw some kind of spiderbud in a costume contest. nobody around them seemed to be all that scared. their invitations REMAINED INTACT.

it should be mentioned here that AT ONE POINT during the discussions an email was sent from TLA saying chuck is allowed to come and wear his mask in the exhibition halls and smaller panels, just not at any of the big PAID PANELS i was once supposed to participate on. this was a confusing offer, but their explanation was that people who paid for something should have the option to not see chucks 'scary neurodivergence aid'. i tried to wrap my head around WHY they would make a distinction. maybe the exchange of money (rather than time) causes some kind of philosophical adjustment that i just cant grasp?

i wonder, would the author who wears a niqab ALSO be banned from the paid panels? i hope not

my answers trotted up short until i investigated deeper and found this quick moment from one of the TLA help videos. while some events DO require additional buckaroo cash, it actually appears that THE ENTIRE CONFERENCE IS TICKETED AND COSTS MONEY.

at this point i realized there is clearly no actual official policy about not covering your face (other than one from a few years ago saying that you HAVE to cover your face), and the addition of 'money' is a red herring. these excuses make no sense

PART FOUR: CLOSE THOSE GATES

it appears that my neurodivergence is 'scary' enough to get me uninvited, REGARDLESS what their disability and mask policies may say

BUT WHY? why is chucks preferred physical presentation valued SO little by the TLA that a THEORETICAL complaint is worth more? is my neurodivergent expression so awful? is my own safety as a queer activist such an afterthought?

is a pink bag with the words 'love is real' scrawled across the front REALLY going to frighten someone when the posters and pamphlets on the way into in panel would have a photo of my masked face saying THIS IS LITERALLY WHO IS ABOUT TO APPEAR BEFORE YOU.

if THAT accommodation is too much, would it really be so difficult to have someone trot out beforehand and make an announcement? to say 'there is someone on this upcoming panel who needs a mask to express this part of himself, if this makes you uncomfortable then this panel might not be for you'.

and really, i have to heckin ask, is this physical expression of my raw inner truth really so hideous and frightening that fear of making someone uncomfortable is a REAL problem?

(a terrifying display of autism. apparently)

i cannot imagine what kind of precautions they need to take before a stage play featuring costumes and masks.

you MIGHT think chucks queerness and left leaning politics could be the issue with this organization, but they have had drag queens as past speakers (also featuring some GLORIOUS makeup and hair that covers almost all of their faces. VERY CURIOUS). regardless, the TLA do not seem like a conservative bunch.

if you are bisexual or an autistic person who is good at 'passing' you probably already know where this is headed, your dang spiderbuckaroo senses are tingling at FULL ALERT. i will say i do not KNOW the real reason why i was uninvited, and i do not have enough information to make any concrete statement of the real answer. there is only evidence that masks have been fine at TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION events in the past, but not much else to go on.

so the FACTS part of our discussion ends there, but i think it opens us up to talk about some very important feelings that bisexual and autistic buckaroos know well.

THIS is where we take a unfortunate, hurtful moment and turn it into a discussion. this is where we prove love is real.

as someone who is constantly doubted and put through purity tests because of my unique way, we are pushing up against a subject i know well. thats right buckaroos: we are talking GATEKEEPING

AGAIN, i do not know if this is the answer, but someone in my position might be VERY STRONGLY INCLINED TO THINK that a few well-meaning left leaning buckaroos think i am a joke and that this is a character, and that there is something problematic about my work because i am not really a real person.

any upstanding left leaning organization would OF COURSE allow a mask for a neurodivergent buckaroo with an unusual visual presentation, an autistic buckaroo who conquered his chronic pain ONLY by creating this important space... but what about a FAKE autistic buckaroo?

any upstanding left leaning organization would OF COURSE allow a mask for a queer LGBTQ activist standing up for gay and trans rights against a torrent of scoundrels hunting for his legal identity. its a matter of safety... but what about a FAKE queer activist?

let me be very clear for the 100th time: i am a real person. this is not a joke. i am not playing a character. i am really autistic and bisexual. tinglers are sincere and they are not ‘so bad theyre good’. they are just good. camp damascus is not ‘my first serious book’ because my queer erotica is serious. my art is important and real.

when people tell me to unmask they often do not know WHY they want it, and of course one very good reason is innocent curiosity. but there are SOME cases where i start to get THAT feeling--that tingle all of us ‘passing’ buckaroos get when we can sense the real intent behind the poking and prodding. that is the feeling of stumbling into a gatekeepers crosshairs.

if i was to take off my pink bag, what about my face would you analyze to tell if i was REALLY queer. my eye color? my ear shape? if you learned my legal name, would you see if it sounded autistic? is my voice neurodivergent enough?

or is all of that utterly absurd? i am curious what the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION thinks.

PART FIVE: GENDERED

this will be the shortest of parts, but it has to be said. i have a very complex relationship with gender, as written about at length here and here. i understand these things can be difficult to parse for some, but i ask that you trust me when i say that the ONLY reason i have been able to talk about my gender and sexuality and learn these things about myself is because of this pink bag. this outward appearance is a direct expression and reflection of my gender journey.

if the texas library association does not care about my appearance as an expression of my autism, then i cant imagine them giving a dang about it as an expression of my gender and queerness. that being said, it is personally very important to me and i think it should be mentioned

PART SIX: SO YOU WANT TO REMOVE AN AUTISTIC QUEER AUTHOR FROM YOUR EVENT BECAUSE PEOPLE MIGHT FIND THEIR DIFFERENCES SCARY

there is a question to be asked here: how could the TLA have done this correctly?

i have one very big piece of advice i would like to shout from the rooftops. please, for the love of sweet barbara, DO ENOUGH RESEARCH to know if this appearance will be a problem and, IF SO, dont extend an invitation in the first place. unique buckaroos with different presentations are constantly left in this place of limbo because we are bombarded with careless actions like those of the TLA. before you consider extending a branch to an artist who might need more accommodations than usual, think to yourself 'CAN WE MAKE THESE ACCOMMODATIONS?'

putting all of this on the shoulders of a single 'buckaroo with a difference' is exhausting. as the TLA has shown, we currently live on a timeline where a buckaroo like myself never really knows if an invite is SOLID without doing a deep dive history lesson on how often a group discriminates and against who.

i did not want to spend my whole family holiday worrying whether or not i should say something publicly or just lie down and shut my dang mouth. i had to consider HOW i should say it. i had to worry whether or not its worth standing up for myself in the face of the largest state library association in the country. i think buckaroos with differences are with me when i say: WE ARE SICK OF HAVING TO DO THIS WORK TO COVER FOR THE POOR BEHAVIOR OF LARGE ORGANIZATIONS WHO TREAT US BADLY

another option would just be to use kindness and common sense and happily accommodate artists with unique presentations to your conventions

PART SEVEN: LOVE IS STILL REAL

i would like to close by saying THANK YOU to my publisher nightfire and editor kelly for standing up for me. they immediately stood firm and had my back. they are the real dang deal. THANK YOU to my management and agent buds dongwon and gino for trotting along beside me. THANK YOU to the folks at the texas library association who initially invited chuck with goodness in their heart and then likely got bowled over by someone else, and maybe even got knocked to the side by a big closing gate.

i hope there are librarians in texas who are still interested in carrying BURY YOUR GAYS when it comes out (which is ironically about someone who creates a space through art to express their queerness where they cant otherwise). libraries prove love is real and what they do IS SO IMPORTANT. it was SO IMPORTANT TO ME as a young buckaroo and i cannot thank you enough. i am not sure if me writing all of this will hurt my sales in some way, but this opportunity to speak about the reality of disability awareness and queer gatekeeping is too important to stay silent. (if you have not already preordered BURY YOUR GAYS then give it a preorder to make up for some texas library losses i guess.)

which leads me to my final thank you. THANK YOU to the buckaroos reading this. yes YOU. i am in the position to stand up and speak my mind against scoundrel forces ONLY because i have the might of you buckaroos by my side. the buckaroo trot is ALL OF OUR TROT and we are ALL HERE TO PROVE LOVE. i cannot tell you how much i appreciate the way you have created a space for me to express these important parts of myself. you have seen this pink mask over my face and saying YES, I ACCEPT YOU, you have literally saved my life. for that i am so thankful.

if you are UPSET by what youve read here, then turn it into something positive. you can support autistic creators, or make a donation to the AUTISTIC SELF ADVOCACY NETWORK

and besides WHO IS REALLY MISSING OUT? this is what it looks like when you invite the worlds greatest author chuck tingle to your event and treat their identity as valid. WE HAVE A DANG GOOD TIME

youtube

KEEP TROTTING INTO THE FUTURE. KEEP KICKING DOWN GATES WHEREVER THEY MAY BE. KEEP PROVING LOVE IS REAL AND PROVING IT TOGETHER. lets go buckaroos - chuck

UPDATE AN HOUR AFTER POSTING:

true buckaroo TJ KLUNE was set to be another author on panel chuck was removed from and has informed me he has now chosen to decline his invitation in support and solidarity with chuck. i am so deeply moved by this. thank you from bottom of heart buckaroo

to be very clear TJ has a huge platform and DOES NOT NEED TO DO THIS. these conferences are great for book sales and he is taking a hit out of pure solidarity. this is queer buckaroos standing up for eachother. i am floored by this kindness and love

please consider checking out his books if they are not already covering your dang bookshelf. chuck blurbed IN THE LIVES OF PUPPETS and i was blown away i heckin loved it

MOST RECENT UPDATE:

here is more

#love is real #chuck tingle #tingleverse #texas library association #actually autistic #lgtbqia #Youtube

10K notes · View notes

slutofpsh · 5 months ago

Text

strip for me.

part two

pairings: hyungline x reader (jay & jake)

synopsis: hyung line got you trapped in a situation that you can’t get away from.

wc: 8k

warnings: smut, minor dni, bullying (not promoting violence or bullying), degrading, dirty talks, curses, masturbation, hyung line being mean. this is not proof read.

note: okay, i’ve been typing this while my eyelids are dropping. i’m so sleepy. anyway, i hope you will enjoy this. part one here, (strip for me).

the day after their little playtime, you’re so scared to go to school. hesitating and timidly walking down the street once you got off from the bus that stops right in front of your school. no matter how hard you try, you just can’t help but to worry that they had spread explicit photos of you.

actually, if it weren’t for geometry’s long quiz you would skip school today. the thought of the boys leaking those pictures haunted you the whole night, you can’t even get some sleep. you bet you looked like a zombie right now.

when you stepped inside the classroom, some of your classmates are bickering and joking around as usual. you expected some dramatic scenes where one calls you out and they all laugh at you for being such a loser.

but none of that happened.

some turns their head at your direction, but they didn’t reacted like how you imagined them to do. there’s no laughing at you or calling you names like whore or slut. but instead they gradually went back on the things they’re doing.

does that mean they didn’t see any of your photos?

you’re still in the middle of spacing out when an arm suddenly rests over your shoulder, followed by a sexy chuckle. it was very familiar and you have an idea who it is.

“hi sweetheart.” jake’s voice ringed at your left ear. his body pressed over your side as he leaned closer adding his weight on you.

when you craned your neck to glance at him, you met his playful eyes. his thick and long eyelashes are very evident from this distance, making him look even more attractive in your eyes.

your cheeks instantly blushed because your noses almost touched each other. envious eyes bore onto you, feeling their heated gaze remaining. they're probably wondering why him— the popular jake sim, is currently being touchy with you— a nobody.

“you look pale. something wrong?” his voice sounded so soft, eyes glistening with a bit of concern if you look closely.

his slightly long hair looked so sexy, its even feel illegal to look like that. you’re quick to dismiss that thought, actually think that its wrong to even have an idea of being attracted towards him. he’s not even a good person. he’s like a devil trapped inside an angel’s body.

jake took a step so he can stand in front of you to take a better look. he leans down so he can catch a glimpse of your eyes making you feel even more timid. his puppy-like eyes stares right into you, as if searching for something.

if only you don’t know his true colors, you might think he’s a very innocent boy. but you knew better. jake sim is far from being innocent. on your opinion, out of all the four he’s the pervert one. he has the most corrupt mind. or at least he’s the one who shows that side more.

he’s usually the one who will pull you any time or anywhere whenever he feels like he wants someone to suck his throbbing dick. he doesn’t even care if your class will start in ten minutes or if you’re in the middle of reviewing for something. there was never a time that he’s not in the mood for sex. he’s always up for it. prepared and horny at all times.

“jake...” and you put your hand over his chest to push him away from you, setting a clear boundary between the two of you.

he’s crossing your personal space and its making you uncomfortable.

his actions makes you a bit suspicious of him. they rarely make interaction with you in public unless they’re picking on you or trying to embarrass the hell out of you.

you should not fall for those pretty lips and puppy eyes. jake sim always means trouble.

“hmm? what, baby?” he asks in a low tone, almost in a growling manner. he trapped his lower lip in between his teeth as he gave you this seducing stare. a hint of mischievousness shines through his eyes.

“move away a bit. y-you’re too close.” your eyes unconsciously darted around the classroom and you noticed how some are still watching you two.

jake seems unbothered by it. of course, its not him who will get harassed by their admirers. it would be you.

he chuckles then snaked his arm over your waist, tugging you even closer. he licked his lips, eyes turning dark out of lust over you.

“we both know we’ve been closer than this.” he spat before leaning again, dismissing your attempt of pushing him and setting a line.

“i can still remember how you look like yesterday. full of our cums...” he groaned near your ear that eventually turned red out of embarrasment.

you just wish none from your class heard what he just said. probably none, right? besides, he just whispered it so close to you. he’s so near to the point that you can feel his hot breath fanning your skin, sending shivers through your spine.

you pursed your lips, preventing to make any inappropriate noise to slip off from them. his hold over your waist tightens, like he just couldn’t get enough of you.

“gosh, sweetheart. you’re so hot looking like that.” he pulls away and the first thing you saw is his evil grin. he’s enjoying it. every damn thing, he’s loving it.

his dirty words made you feel sick in the stomach. you tried to move away, but he managed to grab you by your wrist, yanking you back. almost making you hit his chest.

“don’t worry. your pretty pictures are safe.” he says then winked at you. its like he read what’s in your mind moments ago.

your eyes brightens at what you heard, slowly lowering your guard. jake almost laugh at how adorable your eyes shines with relief. but he must admit, he loves it better whenever its full of tears whenever he’s fucking you senseless.

“r-right? you didn’t spread it or anything?” your soft voice almost made him go feral. jake stops himself from getting too excited. he smirks and slid his hand inside his pocket.

“are you crazy? why would i do that? that’s for our eyes only.” he stated, assuring you.

it somehow sent you instant relief. it was horrible to have that kind of photos of you taken without your permission, but its better to be sure that they’re not going to share it to the whole school.

a heaved sigh escapes your pretty lips that caught his attention. his gaze drops over it and eyes grew darkly.

“but we did sent it to beomgyu.” he whispers like a reminder.

your heart sank at what you heard.

“w-what...”

he scoffs, “you heard that right.” he tilts his head while still watching your face grow pale.

“now, he won’t ever try to flirt with you.” and with that he turns his heel and starts heading to his chair.

you’re left standing there alone. feeling a lump inside your throat and chest aching. you can’t explain what exactly that emotion is. but its not good. you feel humiliated and your only wish is to not bump into beomgyu ever again.

“what are you doing?” you snapped out of it when you heard a low voice from behind.

jay, sunghoon and heeseung walks inside the room. their eyes are darted right at you and noticed how you’re just standing there. the two tall boys behind jay are both silently watching you with cold blank eyes.

you’re quick to avoid their gaze and shook your head to dismiss those thoughts before giving jay a look.

“n-nothing.” you shortly replied and started walking to your seat.

the three boys watch you carefully. the displease look on your face evident and made them wonder what just happened to you. jay glances at them and shrugged his shoulders before going to his chair, throwing one last look to your way.

the class then started after your homeroom teacher arrives. it was normal and you tried hard to pay attention to the discussion. you can’t let these things affect your studies as well. if you want to get away from them, you should aim to a bigger university. far from those four boys.

library period is next after your three first subjects. its basically free time for your class, but you have to spend the time inside the library. you love reading so you don’t really mind. some of them take this opportunity to take naps.

you lost the four boys on your way here, making sure they won’t get a grip of you during the whole hour. the library is huge which is good as there’s a big chance of getting away from them. also, you’re sure they won’t make a scene here. specially with a lot of other students around.

you made it at the far left corner of the library and quickly find a vacant table to read the book you chose. its pretty much isolated as the other students decided to occupy the tables near the entrance.

the book you have is pretty good. cliche plots, but you’re entertaining enough to keep you occupied. you’re currently hooked to it when you heard the chair in front of you being dragged by someone.

your head lifts up to check who it was and regret instantly hit you.

it was choi beomgyu.

his eyes darts at your direction. he looked worried. after being reminded that the boys sent him that photo of you, you quickly tried to gather your things to leave. the last thing you'd want is to get confronted about those horrible pictures.

“wait, y/n!” he calls and went after you.

he managed to catch up and hold your wrist, preventing you to take further steps.

you kept your head low to avoid any eye contact. he’s staring at you and his hold, slowly becoming loose once he realized you’re not planning to run away from him.

he lets out a sigh. “i just want to say sorry.”

you raised your head with a confused look on your face. he blinks and he lifts his hand to scratch the back of his neck. his cheeks flushes, ears turning slightly red.

‘is he embarrased or nervous?’ you thought to yourself.

“i didn’t know about what you have with...” he stalls his words, doesn’t really know which one to address.

you gulped, feeling shy as well. you have no idea what exact thoughts he’s having right now.

“i’m sorry. did i get you in trouble?” his voice sounded nothing but concern.

“p-please, can you delete those pictures?” even if you feel so shy to bring it up, you want to make sure that your pictures won’t be seen by anyone else.

his eyes widen before he glanced away, cheeks burning. well one thing is confirmed. he did saw the pics.

“you don’t have to worry about it.” he gulped, still not looking at you. “sunghoon went to see me last night and made sure i deleted all of them.”

and when he turns his head, you saw that he have a small bruse by the side of his cheek. the ones you can’t see properly from where you’re standing.

sunghoon? what did he do?

you knew he have the worst temper from all of them and he got caught into fights multiple times, but you just can’t believe he will hurt beomgyu for that. its their fault that he got those pics on the first place.

“anyway, that’s it. i really felt bad that i got you into troubles with your...” he cleared his throat and licked his lips. “..boyfriends.”

your brows narrowed. “they’re not my boyfriends.”

he whips his head at your direction with widen eyes. “but why—”

you shake your head, dismissing the topic. “its complicated.”

you let out a strained sigh, once again realizing how bad this situation you got yourself into. beomgyu probably feels bad for you too. being a slave for those four evil guys. you cannot say anything at all. you can’t even complain.

“i have to go. i'm relieved that you don’t have those pics—” your heads turned when you heard a thud sound from the nearest aisle.

feeling a little bothered, you trudges towards to check if somebody was there.

no one.

your eyes dropped to the floor and saw a couple of books fell down from the aisle. probably that’s the sound you heard. maybe some students didn’t properly returned the books.

“thank you for deleting them. good bye.” you gave beomgyu a small smile and a bow before leaving him there.

you don’t want to risk it again. if one of them sees you around him, they might take it the wrong way and punish you. who knows what they will do next? they can be very ruthless and cruel. shivers runs through your spine just by imagining or thinking about what will they do.

when the bell rang signifying that the next period is about to start, you walked inside the class. oddly, the four boys are sat on their chairs.

your brows furrowed slightly, confused. they rarely come early in class. realizing that you’re overthinking things, you went straight to your chair and soon after your teacher enters to start the lesson.

weird. that’s all you can say. the class are almost over and yet none of them came to approach to bother you. nobody even randomly asks for you to meet them somewhere.

they ignored you the whole lunch break too. leaving you alone and peacefully eating your food. that’s a normal thing for other people, but for someone who often being dragged for their little playtime, you find it a little weird.

they’ve been silent after that library period and honestly its making you a bit anxious. they’re so calm and its a bad thing for you. when its too calm, a big storm is about to unfold.

dismissal came, the loud bell ringing all through the hallways. your eyes glanced at them and they’re fixing their things, jake’s talking to jay. sunghoon’s on his phone while heeseung is silently putting his textbook inside his locker.

you have no idea what you’re expecting, but having them completely ignoring you pinches something in you. this is actually a good thing. they’re not bothering you and you can go home peacefully. but a part of you somehow wonders, feels slightly heavy.

when you finished doing your thing, you roamed your eyes around the classrom and they’re not there. you didn’t even notice them leaving the room. jake didn’t purposely bumped into you, reminding you to meet them by the parking lot or somewhere.

in order to make it on the bus stop, you have to walk pass by the wide parking lot of the school. and as you make your way out along with the other students, your eyes caught a familiar tall figure.

it was sunghoon and beside him was a girl. she’s all smile while trying so hard to keep up with the pace of him walking. with those long legs, it sure is hard to catch up on him. sunghoon’s not that friendly, but it didn’t stop him from getting admirers.

normally, he gets rid of them. but you saw how he actually entertain and crack a conversation with her. it was again odd.

not too far from where his car is, you saw jake. he's leaning over his car while talking— more like flirting with this girl. you know her. she’s from the class next to yours. she’s part of the cheerleading squad, a very beautiful girl. he’s always nice to girls, a playboy. that’s how he's usually described so it wasn’t news to see him like this around her.

jay arrived not long after and he greets the girl jake’s talking to before putting his things inside his own car. he seems to be interested to their topic as instantly joins in their conversation.

noticing that heeseung’s nowhere near them, you tried to search for him. and you’re taken aback seeing him leaning over his car and looking straight at you like he’s been watching you ever since you stopped to watch them.

you gulped and stared back for a while before glancing away to leave. a bitter feeling slowly occupies your chest and you try so hard to get rid of it. its wrong to feel that way. you should feel relieved that finally they’re taking interest towards some other girls.

since you have no friends, you’re often alone around the campus. somehow, even if you feel like they’re just around you whenever they wanted to play, they make you feel like you’re not alone. they make you feel like existing.

and watching them slowly lose interest over you are both nice and bothering for you. being used to their presence from time to time made it seems like you’re losing more than gaining something.

the next day, you tried hard to act normal. despite the heavy feeling on your chest and eyes puffy than usual.

the class are loud the moment you stepped in and you scanned the room automatically. they’re not yet here. its still early so its not a surprise anymore.

“yo, jake!” your feet stopped at what you heard.

just when you’re about to look over your shoulder, someone walked pass by you. his familiar manly scent invading your nose that informs you that it was indeed jake sim who arrived.

your heart cracked at how he acted. he smiles at that one friend who greets him, dabbed him and started chatting.

‘maybe he didn’t see me?’ your thought to yourself.

but that’s clearly impossible. jake knew the whole built of your body. he can tell its you even from a good distance, what more if he walks pass by you? he is ignoring you.

you shoved that bitter feeling and just head on your chair. a part of you want to go and ask them what’s up or why they’re suddenly like this, but another part refrain you from doing so. you knew you shouldn’t.

the next few days, its still the same. all of them acts like you didn’t even exist in their world. it should be a good thing and being bothered by it should be the least you occupy your mind, but you can’t help it.

maybe their presense really planted something deep inside your mind. causing you to feel a bit sadder than usual now that they’re ignoring you. it sounds hilarious, but it seems like you grew attached to them.

wednesday, it was a normal school day. you went to school feeling a little bit more dead on the inside. is it just you or its really boring these days? like something’s missing.

you arrived inside your classroom and didn’t bother to look around. straight up, you headed over to your chair then slump yourself to the table. eventually the classroom got filled with students. you tried so hard to avoid searching the other boys.

“since the fieldtrip will be on sunday, i need all your signed consent letter by your parents. if you don’t have it, i can’t let you come.” your homeroom teacher announced.

one by one, your classmates stands up to place the paper over the teacher’s table. you rummaged inside your bag, going through your things to look for the notebook where you put it. after finally finding it you stood up and walks towards your teacher.

“thank you.” your teacher smiles warmly and eyes shifted on the figure behind you.

even before you can turn around to check, your back collided with a hard chest then a low husky voice follows.

“here’s mine.” sunghoon then leans towards the table, pressing his chest on your back even more. his scent invades your nose and it was making you feel things.

you gulped, getting rid of the lump on your throat. he seems totally unbothered by the contact, unlike you. thankfully, he did moved away after handing the paper to your teacher.

when he finally walks back to his place, that’s when you got the chance to move those feet. feeling your knees slightly wobble out of nervousness from that fine man.

even without checking their direction, you can tell that their piercing and predatory stare they’re giving you. its making you more on edge. no matter how many times they do that it never changes the way it affects you.

it slightly made you confused because they’ve been ignoring you. none of them had spoken to you for days and now here’s that feeling again. oddly, the somersault in your stomach didn’t bothered you.

it was almost lunch break when you felt a soft tap over your shoulder while peacefully reading. you craned your neck and looked at the person from behind.

“yeah?” you asked, finding it odd that she’s interacting with you. the displeased look on her face gave away the thought that she's just being forced to do this.

“here.” she says and placed a pile of paper at your table, which you followed with your gaze.

“what’s this?”

she sighs and rolled her eyes a bit, “its our signed consents. the teacher said you should take it to the student council’s office.”

“huh? why me?” you blurt out.

she frowns at your response. “how should i know?!” she hissed then rolled her eyes again. “just take it.” and with that her heels turned to start walking away, off to go back to her friends.

realizing being left with no choice but to comply, you grabbed the stack of papers and start heading the said office.

while on your way, your steps gets slower then eventually halted from your tracks. now that you’re finally going back to your senses, you remembered that heeseung and jay are both part of the student body.

heeseung’s the president and jay’s the vice. personally, you think they’re not deserving of the position as they secretly torment you, but the competition between them and the other participants were not even a close call. their votes were beyond far from the other party.

after letting out a nervous sigh, you started walking again. you tried convincing yourself that they’re probably done with you by now.

a pinch in your heart and you want to curse yourself. not just by feeling a hint of disappointment, but because of the excitement slowly flaring inside your chest. its making your hand shakes a bit, anticipation looming right after.

arriving right in front of their office alloted for the school’s student body, you gulped. feeling so nervous and at the same time thrilled, you needed some time to calm yourself down.

a few knocks at the door is what you do and not even twenty seconds, the door opened.

the first thing you see is park jongseong’s furrowed brows. he looked so attractive with that serious expression on his face.

your mouth gaps, reading to defend yourself for being here when he didn’t even question your presence. he just turned his back then walks towards where he’s probably sitting before your knocked.

you blinked a couple of times, still a little fazed of his behavior. it was a bit weird reaction or maybe that’s how he really is to other people. your heart sank, shoulder almost obviously lowering.

“w-where should i put these?” you tried cracking a conversation with him. it was a bit pathetic on your side.

“on the table.” he shortly replied without even sparing you a glance.

his cold demeanor clearly hurt you that made the corner of your eyes sting. you’re already aware that they’re ignoring you, but this is like a slap to your face.

after you placed it along with the other stacks of paper, you turned around quickly, ready to bolt out from this place when he talk again.

“did i said that you can leave?” jay's husky voice almost echoes through the whole room.

it caught you off-guard that your feet moves even before your brain can process it. with both hands on your sides, you stood by the door awkwardly. his eyes met yours and it didn’t reflect any emotions that adds up to the heavy atmosphere.

“u-uh, do you need me to bring something?” you glanced away and tries to look around the room, trying to find something that can flicker your interest.

he shakes his head side to side before he prompt his chin at the vacant sofa by the corner. eventually understanding what he meant, you trudged over where he wants you to be.

“i’ll be done with this in a bit.” he stated that you only answered with a short nod.

you’re clueless and unable to comprehend anything that’s happening. assumedly, you’re here only to deliver the consent letters and now he’s not letting you leave?

your heart batters faster than usual, casually making you percieved of slight pain on your chest. the main reason for this occurence is still unknown, but that’s the least of your concern.

the whole room fell silent once again after jay’s last sentence. you kept your mouth shut despite enduring the boredom.

your body jolted when jay pushed his chair away from the table after closing his laptop. your heart starting to thump fast once again when you felt his heated gaze darted at you.

he’s not saying anything that made you even more agitated. his eyes bore onto you, not glancing away even for a second. finally, he heavs a sigh before trudging in front of the sofa.

when he’s in front of you, feet almost touching, he stops and stares down. with a thumping heart you tried to look at him, but ends up failing as you are quick to tear your gaze off.

“take off your panties.”

your breath hitched and you felt like you’ve heard that wrong. with your mind clouded with a lot of things, there’s a possibility that you just misheard it, right?

with widen eyes, you glanced at him dumbfounded. “excuse me?”

he tilts his head, still with a placid look on his face. hands sliding inside the pocket of his uniform’s trousers.

“take off your panties.” he repeats himself for you.

“strip for me.” the familiar words he utters sent instense shivers over your spine. it was crazy how used you are on hearing those words that it doesn’t caught you off guard anymore.

“b-but,” your eyes glanced at the direction of the door and instantly, jay understood.

he turns and starts walking towards it, the hills of his shoes clicking on the floor. the sound itself make you feel your stomach churn.

he reaches for the knob and smoothly locked it. he faced you once again and huffs, “better now, baby?”

your knees wants to give out even though you’re already sat down after hearing him say that endearment.

with the lack of response, jay stood in front of you again then rest his hand on his hips.

“do it now.”

“what if some people comes inside?” your voice shakes that makes jay’s mind clouded.

“i already locked it. nobody’s going inside.”

“what if they knock—”

“are you going to take it off or do you want me to do it?” he asks with a calm voice.

your lips got caught in between your teeth. contemplating whether to do as he said or no. the door is a few feet away, you can just bolt and escape him. that thought dissipate as he moves to your line of vision.

“y/n.” this time his tone sounds so stern.

with flustered face, you lowered your head and slowly reach for your underwear. you have no idea what’s his reaction because you’re avoiding to look at jay’s eyes.

“good girl.”

you can swear that your face is as red as tomatoes right the moment. with how sexy his low voice sounds and at what you’re doing, heat rushes your cheeks.

after sliding the small garment off, you closed your thighs, feeling so naked without it. jay’s eyes grew dark at the sight of you being like this.

“don’t hide from me.” he ordered and pressed his hand over your shoulder to make you rest at the sofa.

you slightly yelp at what he did and soon, one of his hand pushed your thighs apart. you blushed and tries to fight back which leads to nothing as he just swiftly made his way. jay’s glared at you once in your failed attempt of stopping him.

“look at that,” he stated while staring down at your now exposed core.

you shut your eyes, feeling so embarrassed. this isn’t the first time he saw you like this. he even saw you without anything on, but because its been days since they last had their playtime, it made you feel even more awkward than usual.

“you’re already so wet for me, baby.” he whispers, eyes growing darker out of lust while almost salivating at the view of your pussy clenching over nothing.

“such a slut for me.” he leans in and gather a generous amount of saliva then let it drip down on your core.

you pursed your lips harder and threw your head back while shutting your eyes. the view feels too illegal to watch. it is illegal to these kind of things here, in this office, at your school. the amount of trouble you’ll get into once caught.

“j-jay,” you almost bit your tongue as the suppose to be warning came out as a mone.

he glanced at you over his eyelashes before dipping his head down, finally connecting his lips at your dripping core.

“ugh," your fingers unconsciously grabbed his hair that instantly made you crack your eyes open, surprise by your own action.

“i'm s-sorry,” you said and was about to pull it away when he rest his big hands over yours. keeping it in place.

“its okay, you can touch my hair.” he said before going back on lapping senselessly over your cunt.

it made you hitch your breath and lose your mind. the feeling of his tongue grazing all the sides of your womanhood and how amazingly he’s doing it is too much. the way he makes out with your clit, tongue sliding in to your hole from time to time.

“j-jay, oh my gosh—” you clash your hand on your mouth to keep silent. afraid to make noticeable noises that can gather attention from outside.

“so sweet.” he groans through your pussy, the vibration almost sent you to oblivion. over the right things that you should do, like push him away and leave this place.

instead of doing that, your fingers carded his soft hair and grabbed over it feeling a knot on your stomach. climax almost reaching you.

when you’re about to reach the heaven, jay pulls away and you almost groaned out of displeasure and the lost contact from his sinful mouth. jay smirks and smoothly took off his trousers.

you gulped, eyes full of anticipation of seeing his erect manhood. jay didn’t even bother taking it all off, just enough to pull his member out in the open. his cock is so hard and thick, making you feel conscious about how it would stretch you out good.

muffled curses showers your mind as you fight your demons trying to escape you.

he strokes his cock a few times before nearing it to your core. when its head slightly grazes your line, you whimpered softly, catching his attention. jay scoffed smugly. proud that its him making you feel like this, making you look like you’re going to lose your mind.

he traces your line using his throbbing head and then he finally slid it inside, all of his length. he watches it disappeared as it fully enters you making the two of you let out sensual moans.

“fuck.” he curses as your grip over his arm tightens.

he glances at you and when he saw how you have your eyes shut, he taps your cheeks gently. “watch me fuck you good, baby.”

and with that you obliged to his demands. you let yourself get drawn by his hot stares and fall on his trap. it was as if you just lose control of your own body and just follows what he’s about to tell you.

“oh you’re taking me so well.” he growled above you as he continue fucking his dick deep inside in a slow pace. it was torture.

he kept it like that until he felt you tightening around him, suffocating his cock. he knows you’re about to come and the look on your face just makes him want to just fuck you senseless. but it wasn’t the plan.

you can almost taste it. mind clouded by nothing but the thought of creaming around jay’s hardened cock. the imminent pleasure that approaching made you nibble on your lips a little bit more harder, that you’re sure it will bleed anytime soon.

“oh gosh—” brows narrowing closer as he reaches deeper of your insides.

but the clear anticipation came running down the drain when jay suddenly pulls it out leaving you hanging, losing your chance to reach climax. frustration and embarrasment replacing them right away.

jay finished outside of you after he strokes his dick a few more times, shooting his thick cum on your hole. you look at him in disbelief, wondering if he happens to miss that you haven’t reached your climax yet. it was impossible.

it was confirmed when you saw the evident smirk on his lips as he stood up. the conniving look on his face ignites annoyance inside of you.

feeling too naked and definitely uneasy, you decided to pick your underwear and slid it back, disregarding the uncomfortable wet juice still leaking out from your neglected core.

“see you around, y/n.” you even heard him say before you left him inside that room.

it was your last two subjects and you’re still on a foul mood. after what happened at the student council’s office with jay, you can’t get rid of your bad mood. maybe because you’ve been denied of your release. for the first time. you never knew it felt this way.

“y/n, coleen and shin.” your head perks up at the mention of your name.

“please go to the journalism club room. its your turn to take your i.d pictures.” the homeroom teacher announces.

the other girls that was called stood up right away. you don’t want to go. you’re not really on the mood to take pictures. not when you’re feeling sulky and pissed off.

in the end, you forced yourself up and go to take your i.d picture. all you want is for you to go home and finally leave this place.

the club room is at the other side of the building and you can see that some students are around the hallway, goofing around.

since the journalism club have talented photographers, they’re tasked to take the student’s i.d pictures for this school year. you didn’t think too much of it as it doesn’t bother you at all. the school can do whatever they want.

when you entered the club, its filled with students. you noticed curtains that serves as divisions inside. there are a total of four stalls where students gets inside to get their pictures taken. probably one photographers waiting for them.

multiple sounds of cameras clicking can be heard around.

“please find your section and name here then sign.” the girl at the table near the entrance caught your attention.

you nodded and proceed on finding your name. after doing that, you’re instructed to write your full name on a white piece of paper.

“head over the stall at the end.” she says not even throwing you a glance and focuses on arranging something on her laptop.

you ignored her behavior and just walks to the end stall. the curtain that serves as the door to keep privacy is thick, preventing you from seeing what’s inside.

you moved it and your heart fell at the sight of a man’s back.

jake sim.

probably noticing your presence and hearing the shuffling of the curtain, he looked over his shoulder. his lips curled into a grin at the sight of you. his messy hair paired with his glasses looks so good on him. his free hand raises and pulls his lollipop out from his mouth, making a ‘pop’ sound.

“what are you waiting for? get inside.” he tilts his head, prompting you to come in.

“o-oh, okay.” and you stepped inside.

he pushed forward making you smell him more as he reaches for the curtain to close it behind you.

“sit down at the chair please.” his sweet voice rings on your ear making you feel things.

you follow what he said and sat down at the chair by the center. he was doing something on his camera, totally focused while his tongue plays with the lollipop that is now inside his mouth.

the frustration from before got you too occupied that you failed to remember that he’s part of this club. jake sim just can’t be more perfect. he cannot just be the smart, handsome student who came from a wealthy family. of course, he’s good at taking photos too.

“all right.” he says and finally diverts his attention towards you.

it caught you off guard and totally took your breath away. he glances down at the paper you’re holding. he raises one of his eyebrow then glanced back at your eyes.

“get rid of that paper. i know your full name so damn well.” he says and grabbed the paper to throw it to the side.

“smile for the camera.” he said casually and placed it near his face.

you've seen him with his camera before. during events at school and the journalism needs to cover it, he will be around taking pictures. he looked so handsome whenever he’s doing that. you can tell he loves doing it.

“sweetheart,” he pulls away from the camera to look at you.

“huh?” you asked totally spacing out.

“show me that pretty smile.”

you quickly blushed because of his words. he clicked the camera a playful smile spreads across his face. he didn’t pull away this time but give you subtle compliments, enjoying how good you look right now.

for jake, whenever you look so clueless and innocent, that’s when he loses his mind the most. he feels like his purpose in this life is to corrupt you, taint you in any possible way he can.

“that's it. very pretty.” he clicked multiple times and when he finally gets satisfied, he pulls away to check them out.

you heaved out a sigh, trying to relax yourself. just by then you realized that you’ve been holding your breath. jake’s taking him away from you.

“okay, we got it.” he announced that made you feel relief.

you thanked him and stood up, ready to leave when his arm blocked you from taking further steps. he looked at you with furrowed brows.

“where are you going?”

“outside?” you answered unsure.

“go sit back down. we’re not yet done.” he says sternly and unplugged something from his camera.

maybe it was the cord connecting the camera to the laptops outside. so the students outside can see the actual shots right away.

“but i t-thought you said...” your words stalls when he shoot you this intimidating stares.

it left you with no choice but to walk back to the chair and sit down. jake’s face relaxes and he smirks again.

“now, take off your clothes.”

“w-what?”

he shrugged his shoulders. like he didn’t just said the most hilarious thing he can say inside a studio filled with other students.

“you heard me, sweetheart.” he clicks the side of his cheeks attractively.

“strip for me.” jake’s smile was so evil when he say those words.

you kept still, hands fidgets feeling uneasy. he is the type you can’t say no to. because he will turn sulky right away. and sulky jake is bad news.

“b-but there’s students around, jake. they might see—”

“what do you think of me? stupid?” he scoffs, sounding a bit offended. panic occurs you, ready to defend yourself and explains that its not what you’re trying to conclude

“i already told you that we’re the only ones allowed to see your body.” he sounded so serious, scaring you slightly.

“now take it off before i end up ripping them off of you.” he added aggressively.

it scared you. you knew he will do it.

his eyes sparkled when he saw you reaching for your buttons. with flustered face, your eyes glances away from his piercing eyes. he started taking photos of you. the continuous clicking of his camera and him not saying anything made you feel on edge.

he took multiple photographs of your exposed upper body while your skirt are still on. for jake it was perfect. he can print this pictures and tape it on his room wall so he can stare at it all day.

“panties off. i want to see my cunt.” he then settles down his camera at the sight.

you gulped, the memory of what happened earlier this day with jay flashes back to your mind. the way this somehow reminds you of that scene is crazy. its too similar, but at the same time different. due to their unalike personalities, they’re delivering the same scenarios in their own styles.

he was licking the lollipop like as if imagining it was your pussy he was devouring. he watches while you take off your undergarment, slightly feeling impatient.

the lollipop was out from his mouth as it gaps the moment he saw your pussy. he glances at your eyes shortly then steps closer.

he licked his lips then touches your chin to make you look up at him. you looked at his eyes and he leans to kiss you, sliding his tongue inside your mouth, giving you a taste of the sweetness from the candy.

your mouths continued doing that for a while before he moves away, looking completely drunk in lust for you. he roams his eyes around your face before giving you one last peck.

he then crouches down to be in the same level as your cunt. he leans closer, his breath fanning your sensitive skin. your breath is heavy, unable to contain the lust forming inside you as well.

he raises his hand then tastes the lollipop again then pulls out. he then dips his head, lips kissing your core. you let out a gasp, surprised. a hand clapped over your mouth to muffle any sound.

he pulls away as he looks up to you with his doe puppy-like eyes.

“your cunt is definitely sweeter.” he commented and threw the candy away shamelessly before starting diving back in to eat you out.

“oh my— j-jake!” you whispered, trying to contain your whimpers and control yourself.

he chuckles while still mouth connected on you. he didn’t waste any second before sliding two fingers inside, fucking it inside you with a way that sends your mind somewhere else.

“cunt so sweet, so perfect.” he praises as he continues.

he glances at you and saw how desperation flickers your eyes. you looked adorable trying not to make any sound, afraid that you’ll be caught for doing nasty things inside the school premises.

“you’re so pretty, aren’t you sweetheart?” he asks with a hint of innocence like as if he’s not finger fucking you right now.

he opens his sinful plump lips then slide his tongue out, leaning down to your core to start working on your clit while his fingers are busy sliding in and out of you.

the feeling was too much, the sensation is too much for you to bear that it made you groan. your hand are tightly gripping your mouth to muffle the sound as much as you can.

“s-so near,” you whispered while staring down at him eating you deliciously.

“yeah? cum for me then...” he says shortly.

he was doing a great job on pleasuring you that it was not long until you can feel the familiar knot forming inside your stomach. it slightly worry you that he will do the same thing jay did.

“cum for me, sweetheart. let me get a taste of that sweet juice of yours.” he mumbles sounding so sexy, eyes never leaving you.

“j-jake.” you moaned his name.

he smirks, “that’s right. i’m the one making you feel crazy.” he sounded so full of himself, smug.

“ugh," your head threw back, eyes tightly shut as you shakes a bit after reaching your most wanted release.

jake’s lips on your core, making sure to harvest every bit of your sweet cum. he’s addicted and he’s not even bothered by it.

still high from that delicious climax, you couldn’t help but travel your gaze down to his pants. a dent slightly showing that made you salivate a bit.

“we’re done.” he says that snapped you out of your trance.

you looked at him confused. “h-huh?”

he smirks, “what? you want something else?” he taunts with a hint of sarcasm.

“you’re not getting my dick today, sweetheart. that’s my punishment for you.”

your brows draws closer at his remark. wondering what he meant by punishing you. as far as you remember, you didn’t do anything wrong. so why is he punishing you?

now, jay slids in your mind and wonders if not letting you cum is his way of punishing you.

“i’m done with stall number four.” jake shouts, informing the student outside that he’s finished with his business.

he glances at you and when the lust faded, embarrasment kicks in. you quickly fixed yourself and hurried outside.

everyone seems to be busy with their own business so none of them took notice of your slightly crumpled uniform and your forehead filled with beads of sweat.

once you stepped outside the club room, your steps halted when you saw heeseung and sunghoon heading your way. their eyes both have those cold, dark stares that made your heart race.

heeseung gave you a cold shoulder like usual, walking pass by you and straight to the club room.

sunghoon blocked your way. he’s staring right at you before running his eyes down to your feet. after observing you for a while, his hand raises to fix your blouse.

“students should always wear their uniform properly.” he utters in a low voice.

such big words coming from someone who have the first three buttons of his uniform open. you kept your mouth shut and just glance away.

he sighs after doing the small fixing on you.

“t-thank you.” you just ended saying that, feeling awkward.

his attention then darted at the door of the club room when it swings open, “hoon, its our turn.” heeseung calls for the younger friend.

he nods and soon dart his eyes at you.

“meet me after practice tomorrow at the ice hockey’s locker room.” he leans and places a kiss on your neck before heading towards heeseung. leaving you completely dumbfounded at his actions.

(replies and reblog my works. send asks too! thank you so much.)

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hyung line #enhypen lee heeseung #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen park jongseong #enhypen jay smut #enhypen jake sim #enhypen jake smut #enhypen park sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon smut

2K notes · View notes

mygnolia · 6 months ago

Text

three laws of motion, and the three ways i love you | sjy

synopsis -› the only person jake has to thank for you and him getting together is isaac newton, and the stupid apple that fell on his head.

pair -› sim jaeyun/jake x reader | genre -› fluff fluff fluff | trope -› friends to lovers, roommates to lovers

wc -› 4.8k

cw -› god the pining oh the pining oh you are oblivious.. how to lose a guy in 10 days minor spoilers!

a/n -› oopsie!! i fear jake in glasses has me in a trance. HES SOOO simpy

law one: any object that is put in motion will stay in motion until another force has acted on it. also dubbed as inertia!

jake does not know jealousy until he finds out the upcoming plan to check out the new ice cream shop together is canceled, all because kim sunoo is ‘cute,’ and you want to repay him for helping you in your communications class. he could have done the same thing! maybe he wouldn’t have been alone on the last saturday of this month if he reached out. he’s never been alone on this day. to be fair, you’ve done this only a handful of times, the limit reaching the number of fingers he has on one hand, but still! jake scowls and curses whoever kim sunoo is for stealing you away from him, even if sunoo has the brightest smile and the caring attentiveness jake wishes he himself had.

jake mopes on the couch, rewatching ‘friends’ until you come back, with a small smile gracing your oh-so-pretty face. he immediately springs up, helping you with your coat and asking where you’ve been, even if he knows.

“i was with sunoo.” you respond simply. He drills you with questions, laced with concern but hidden with a curiosity that could only stem from his feelings for you. “we went out to eat something small, and had some ice cream, that’s all. I was fine, don’t even worry- he drove me home and waited until i texted him anyway.” jake feels his role by your side becoming smaller, and he takes a slow breath, hoping that with his exhale goes the negative feelings he has about being competition.

“we were supposed to watch how to lose a man in ten days.” he complains, and you laugh, his voice sounding dejected. you shove him towards your bedroom, telling him that there’s still time to watch one of your favorite films of all time.

“but you’re tired.” he takes a step closer, examining the way your eyes lose energy as the day goes on as an eventual sign of your dwindling social battery.

“doesn’t mean I don’t want to watch with you.” you retort, opening your bedroom door and setting up the movie on your laptop. his eyes shine with worry as he carefully watches how you move. the way your feet drag, how you slowly thumb through a set of pajamas, and the look you give when you need to change.

but if jake is anything, he is weak- and to spend more time with you, his darling girl, is his kryptonite.

you both slip under the sheets, and it’s something he convinces himself is normal when you first started becoming roommates. when you were first told about how your friend knew someone who’d be a perfect roommate, you weren’t expecting jake, but he assured you that jake has always been an angel, and if anything happens, for you to give him a call or text immediately. it was never necessary, and your friend was right, jake proved to be a perfect roommate as time went on.

albeit, maybe a little too perfect, because with the way you’re resting on his shoulder and with the gentle way he combs through your hair, you wonder if it’s all in typical roommate fashion. you fall asleep before you can wonder if the way he pulls you closer, shutting off the lights and shutting your laptop is all in the guide to be a good roommate, or if he’s doing these things because he’s reading a different guide;

the guide to making the roommate- the same one you’ve had a crush on- your girlfriend.

you wake up to your laptop shut on your table, and the knot in your neck helps you realize you fell asleep in the wrong position. when you come out of the bathroom, you see jake buttering toast and cutting up the strawberries you begged him to buy at the market a week ago. you both hope that no mold has grown on them.

“how did you sleep?” he asks, plopping a strawberry in his mouth. you shrug, still trying to stretch out the tight feeling in your muscles.

“here,” he motions, a piece of toast between his lips as he walks up behind you. you know how attentive jake is to the little things, and the gentle way he presses at the junction of your shoulder blade and neck only proves your beliefs further. you always have appreciated him for the silent way he cares, and now, more than ever. the crunch of his toast as he momentarily pauses makes you laugh, turning around as he also smiles as he eats. you reach up, wiping the crumbs from his lips, and his eyes follow the movement without fail. he’s not sure how you two were so close, and how the white winter sun makes you look so angelic, but he doesn’t move out of place until you’re out of sight, thanking him for the slice of toast as you leave to get ready for the day.

he thinks that things have been the same for both of you, but suddenly, something changes his course, and his heart thumps in his ears, as if it’s possible that he’s fallen for you more.

the second time you have to rain check is finals- and he gets it, truly. your psychology class isn’t going to pass itself, and yet, his heart sinks like an anchor at sea when you pout and show him the 89 term quizlet you’re forced to study for the upcoming week.

“I really wish i could-“ you promise, genuine remorse in your gaze (and yes, jake’s forgiven you immediately). “I tried to study last night at the library to make sure we could finish queen of tears, but god, i feel like i know nothing.” jake understands with a silent nod, and does his best to put your feelings first. “after my final, i’ll be off- plus, you have your calculus final tomorrow morning anyways, right?” internally, jakes eyes turn into hearts, melting at the way you remember.

“multivariable calculus, yes, at 10.” he sighs, dreading the imminent test but confident in his ability to pass. he sighs, scrolling through his calendar despite there being no assignments due.

“if i help you out, can we watch after your final?” you swivel from your chair to face him lounging on your bed. he’s in a white t-shirt and jeans, an obvious outside outfit on your sheets. you glare at him, but don’t say anything.

still, the proposition interests you. “how are you even going to help me out?”

“i took this class last year, remember?”

right. “why would you even want to? psych’s like- not your cup of tea at all.”

jake responds without thinking, “i don’t mind it if it means we can spend time together.”

you both freeze, and the comfortable conversation stills. you spin back around, picking at the corner of your paper, nervously trying to find a deeper meaning in his words. “okay.” you mumble, and jake doesn’t take your change in disposition to heart, more worries over how you’ll perceive him if he’s too clingy.

“and,” he adds, standing up from your bed. “i want to see what happens. we need to finish the drama- the episode came out three days ago, and i think if i keep seeing edits, i’m going to say ‘fuck it’ and watch it myself.”

without turning around, you snort. “yeah, yeah. you would never watch an episode without me there.”

and you’re right, painfully so. jake closes your door, burying his face in his hands in embarrassment.

the next day, he keeps his promise, dragging you to his room to find a scraggly pile of handwritten psych assignments you’re confused as to why he even has. when you voice your concerns for his paper hoarding, he shrugs, retorting how it helps you regardless.

you lean against his blue pillows, crossing your legs as he sits back in his chair and asks you questions.

he reads off another question, pausing before letting you know it’s incorrect. “mmm, not really.” he tells you, glancing up. he leans over, pointing to the part in the textbook he’s been using as studying material, and you hear the tiredness in his voice with how low he speaks. jake is gentle; the way he looks at you understanding the text is no different, and his heart thuds painfully against his ribcage. he continues, no matter how much he wants to go to sleep, and by the time he’s finished explaining everything you’ve missed (which wasn’t even much) you both cheer to realize you’ve finished slide 89/89. you jump up from his bed, wrinkling his bedsheets as you envelope him in a tight hold.

“thank you.” you tell him sincerely, arms looped around his neck as jake is quick to hug you back. you feel his head rest on your shoulder, and your heart warms with adoration.

“of course, ____.”

you pause, thinking about whether or not you should still continue with your plans. “you’re tired.” you state the obvious. “and I don’t want to watch something if you need to go sleep.”

he rolls his eyes, motioning to you to scoot over so he can join you. “we always do this on a saturday so we can sleep in on sunday.” he comments, getting his laptop. you shake your head.

“it’s different, jake. this time, you’re tired and I don’t want to wake you up to make you brush your teeth or whatever.” he hears the playful lilt in your voice, and scoffs.

“you just don’t want to watch with me anymore!” he accuses, cracking a smile as he shoves you.

with widened eyes, you shake your head, teasing him about how he jumps to conclusions so quickly. “i would never, jake.” you meet his gaze with sincerity. “i love to spend time with you. always.”

if things stay in motion like this, without any rain checks or ice cream dates, jake thinks he likes this course of inertia much better- just you and him.

law two: force = mass x acceleration

to simply put it, jake sleeping in your bed will suffocate you sooner or later. despite being very smart, jake doesn’t realize that muscles means added mass, and the more he works out, the higher the chances of you dying from the incapability to breathe.

it starts with jake asking if he can sleep beside you, since the heater never reaches his room despite said room being a grand nine feet away from yours. you highly doubt his excuse, but you choose not to find out if it really is the cold abyss your roommate swears it is. he also tells you that he likes your light blue sheets with daisies on it, which is something that seems pretty plausible, and you’re swayed by his earnest compliments. when you asked why, a question spoken into the dark of your room, jake immediately responded by telling you that the holidays are the perfect time to grab a buddy and spread the holiday cheer. with a shove at his shoulder, he defends himself, saying that he wakes up earlier than you, so you wouldn’t have to even worry about seeing him in the morning.

that last part was true, jake was always extremely efficient with his time, and it meant you were sometimes waking up to a pan dropping in the kitchen during his kitchen ventures. but today? he seemed to be the opposite.

when the sun shines high in the sky, with your clock reading a time past 10am, you finally wake up. trying to brush the hair out of your face, you really start to pay attention to the way his breath fans your shoulder blade, and how almost half of his body weight was on top of yours. you were both people who enjoyed skinship, and your friendship was solid enough where you knew you weren’t uncomfortable, but it was the surprise of ending up entangled with someone who, last night, refused to get closer out of personal space.

“jake.” you call, tapping his shoulder. you can barely move, shuffling around as you watch him shuffle around under the sheets, his hands wandering to pull you closer. “jake!”

you don’t get much time to really admire him like his. his hair, all messy, had been undoubtedly better the more it grows out, and you’ve seen him put it in a ponytail- a new style that maybe you liked more than you’d like to admit. his bangs rest on the planes of his cheekbones, and you suck in a breath at how effortlessly angelic he looks in the morning sun.

truth be told, it brings you comfort to know how he subconsciously trusts you to scoot closer and eventually cling to you in his sleep.

jake’s eyes flutter open, and he slowly blinks without registering how close you are. you make eye contact, and your lazy stare flutters to closed eyes as you get comfortable on your pillow. yes, jake makes it a little hard to breathe, but in the end, it’s not that bad.

“i thought you said you wake up early.” you comment. jake swats at your face lightly, and a giggle escapes as you fight his hand. “it’s the holidays.” he says, a poor excuse as to why he hasn’t gotten up. he looks at you again, taking in your mock annoyance and smiling. “let me hold you, yeah?” he mumbles absentmindedly, still half consumed by the morning lethargy.

your heart skips a little, and you feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you try not to let jake’s sleepy comments get to you. he doesn’t mean it, you tell yourself, but his sleepy words are sober thoughts, and you try not to think about the deeper meaning. jake has the brightest smiles and the kindest of hearts, so much so that it makes his hugs warm and his comfort like a cozy embrace. and you really really try not to think about what he’s saying, because jake cares for all of his friends, so much so that his words are always filled to the brim with love. and despite knowing all of this, despite knowing that jake is one of the best wonderful people you know, you can’t help but think about if it were romantic, if you two barely crossed the boundary to be just a little more. plus, you’re basically there. it’s in the way no boy comes up to you, not because you’re not wanted, but because everyone assumes that the boy with the australian accent and arm around your shoulder is the love of your life; and everyone says you look at him that way. it’s in the way he texts you to come back to the apartment because it’s empty without you, or the way he’s currently falling back asleep on your shoulder, his arm secured around your waist. and you refuse to believe that it’s anything more than friendship. you’re almost positive he feels the same, but still, somewhere inside of your heart yearns for it not to be true.

your rapidly beating heart accelerates, and if you two weren’t friends, it’d be like you were forced to fall in love with jake.

before you leave for the holidays, you promise jake one more movie, as a make-up for the few days you two weren’t able to properly finish your movie nights. finally, it’s time to watch ‘how to lose a guy in ten days.’

“it’s not even a christmas special.” jake says as you type in the pirated site. you roll your eyes, elbowing the nearest part of him.

“it doesn’t have to be a christmas movie. you can’t even name a good christmas rom-com!”

he racks his brain, truly trying to find a movie that lives up to the expectations of one of the best rom-coms to exist. “fine. i guess we can watch this movie then.” and he pulls the blanket up in retaliation. you turn to him with a scowl, but he pretends not to notice.

when the movie starts playing, you make an effort to snatch his phone away, leaving it on your bedside as his attention diverts to the illuminated screen. “you’re going to love it.” you say offhandedly, watching how kate hudson and matthew mcconaughey immerse themselves in their roles.

you turn to jake, making sure he’s thoroughly paying attention.

“what?” he grins, his arm wrapping around you to rest on your waist. “I’m watching, don’t worry.”

you click the space bar. “tell me what happens, then.” you raise an eyebrow, waiting to hear his perfect retelling of the film so far.

“well, her fake therapist friend tells them to go meet his family, and everyone loves her off the get go. They play that card game and everyone helps her cheat, but she finds out that he’s never taken a girl home before. thinking about it, they were definitely in love with each other from the start. like, the way he looks at her in that entire movie! trust me, they’re in love.”

“oh,” you turn, a teasing smile on your features. “and you’re a love expert?”

jake suddenly losing focus on the movie, looking at the way you wait for his answer. he’s breathless, licking his lips nervously as he sends you a quick nod. “i know what it looks like to be in love.” he responds plainly when he returns his attention to the screen, his hand around your waist suddenly feeling clammy.

you hum, glancing over to your right again. “and what does that look like?”

the way I look at you. he thinks. instead, he shrugs. “like they hold the world in their hands.”

your eyes sparkle, interested in his answer but too invested in the film to press further.

“cliche.” and you’re awfully aware of the hand that rests against the fabric of your shirt, left to wonder if this is what it means to be in love.

when the finale finishes and the screen fades to black, you let the end credits roll to tell him about your thoughts. sentences that start with “to be honest” followed with something strongly worded, and sentences praising certain scenes reach his ears as he listens quietly. your gaze never leaves the screen as you collect your thoughts, and your head never leaves his shoulder. when your roommate doesn’t add on, you look up at him, and from the shift, jake turns to make eye contact with you. “what?” he says softly.

“you didn’t say anything.” you almost whisper. the enchanting glow of the laptop screen makes his small chuckle just a little bit more attractive, and for yet another time, you glance at his lips, hoping he doesn’t notice.

“i answered you earlier.” he whines, rubbing his eye.

“doesn’t count.” he cracks a smile at your bickering, and sighs.

“i agree with everything you have to say, princess. always have.” your stomach stirs, butterflies rustling around as you make it obvious how much you’ve been staring at his lips. “what’s wrong, angel?” he plays oblivious as he shifts so you two are facing each other. your eyes are drooped, the sleep making you slip into new and equally as dangerous territory. the corner of his lip pulls into a charming smile, and you feel your heartstrings tug so badly with the rapid of your rushing heart. you glance back at him, meeting his warm gaze before shifting a little closer.

and maybe jake’s hand immediately tightens at your waist, and maybe his eyes flutter shut as his other hand cups your jaw. and maybe, as the cliche song plays over a rolling list of names in the background, you kiss your best friend- the feeling leaving your heart jumping and your ears hot. your hands reach up, your thumb tracing his cheek as he pulls you closer. you pull back, eyes shining with content and so many unspoken feelings, and he looks at you, full of love. and you realize that this is what he means- that andie anderson and ben barry may have just been acting, but the smile he gives you is anything but.

you giggle, pulling him back to kiss him just once more- or maybe twice, and you’re selfish in the way you hold him, wanting of him all to yourself.

and maybe, just maybe, jake sim likes you back.

law three: every action has an equal opposite reaction.

yes, every action has an equal and opposite reaction; so it hangs as an unspoken truth in the sky that jake likes you as much as you do- but you never took physics, and you leave the apartment early the next morning. it’s saturday, yes, and all of your finals were done, but you usually always stay for just a bit longer, relishing in the winter air before detangling yourself with college and finally heading back home. the university holds an ice skating event for free around this time anyways, and in the few years that you two have been roommates, you’ve dragged him along with you. you were nothing like his somewhat skilled friends, but jake still reveled in your smiles and shaky yelps every time you were off balance.

off-balance. that’s how things were.

you haven’t responded to his texts, and he’s stuck pacing around the kitchen wondering what he could’ve done wrong. you leave every text unanswered, and a voicemail for every call.

nonetheless, jake tries again- desperate.

“hi-“ you say, in a breathless fleeting manner. “i’m busy-“

“no ___, you can’t just kiss me-“ the line ends, and you feel your heart beat fast again, like how it does every time you think about that december night.

on the other line, jake lets out another sigh, his heart twisting with worry. it’s an ugly and unexplainable feeling truly, how he’s worried you’ve toyed with his heart, but how if you kissed him again, it would soothe any wrinkles in his timeline- and that all his feelings would go back to being in love, and he’d be okay with it. jake would rewrite the stars, hanging the moon in the sky and undoing everything if it meant going back to then, with his palm pressed against your skin, his lips on yours, and his heart nestled within your hands, bound to whatever fate you would give him. and you know this about him, you know that jake would run around the world to find love from you, and you couldn’t treat him like that. there was no way you and jake were to work out, and while you’ve convinced yourself of this, jake on the other hand is desperate to read between the lines, finding himself going insane the more he lays there in the early AM thinking about what all of this means. he wishes he could redo it- so he could experience it just once more, and so he could understand where it went wrong. jake refuses to let you go- at least, not yet.

despite your efforts to avoid him for the week of christmas and new years, you felt your heart break the longer you left his message unopened, and responded with a sincere ‘happy holidays. stay warm, jake.’ he opens up the text, his heart still doing that weird thing where it uncomfortably beats, with excitement and disappointment all in the same vein.

and it’s like that for winter break- confused or at least until you come back a week early. you had plans on keeping a small tree in your apartment to add to the holiday spirit even after the holidays, and the box for the tree plus the ornaments had already been stowed away in your room. there’s no way he’s here- he lives hours from campus, and without any new year plans, you’re sure you’ll have the place to yourself.

you don’t check his location, too consumed to make the drive back to even notice his room has minuscule sound coming from it. the door stays shut, and without any gaps to really see any light, you don’t pay any mind in checking if there’s a sudden intruder.

the christmas tree slowly gets put together, and you sit with yourself as a show plays on the TV, quiet. it’s as if to not disturb the ambience, and you feel the cinnamon and cold settle within your bones when you throw out some of the plastic packaging.

“you’re here.”

the cold from your quick excursion, added with the sudden confrontation makes your blood run cold, unable to tear your gaze from the blinking LEDs on the fake evergreen tree you’ve put up.

“yeah, i guess so.” you say, unable to really conjure anything else up. you refuse to look him in the eye, afraid you’ll be faced with indisputable anger, resentment, and the confusion, the same feelings you had when at your own home. you’re afraid that the way you hate yourself for leaving so abruptly, and to ruin such a good thing, is the reason why jake suddenly doesn’t want you back anymore. that- because of your inability to accept that you love someone who’s so out of your league, you’ve let a good thing fizzle out.

there’s no cold in the apartment- the heater already being set to a cozy temperature, and yet the goosebumps on your skin prove otherwise. it’s biting, chilly almost, the way you both stand there, unsure of what to say.

it’s uncomfortable, and the silence leaves a hopeless feeling in your chest; one that screams that you two truly weren’t as meant to be as you thought.

“why?” he breathes.

“why..why what?”

“why’d you leave after all that happened?”

your eyes widen, scrambling your brain to find a lie to give before you give up, opting to simply tell the truth. you’ve hurt him once by leaving, an action that you truly have no excuse for. it’s winter, you lie to yourself. you rehearse in your head to tell him that you missed your family, and couldn’t wait to go home. it’s all lies, and jake’s no more than a polygraph test in human form. you couldn’t live with yourself if you lost him over a lie.

plus, you couldn’t lie to him- not after all the hurt.

“jake-“ you say hurriedly. “you’re everything, you’re perfect, you deserve more than me. you deserve more to a girlfriend than a roommate who rushes to pay rent, someone who doesn’t leave curling irons on in the bathroom, a girlfriend who doesn’t phone you at night because she doesn’t have anyone else. you don’t need someone to rely on you the way i just do-“

“maybe loving you is the worst decision anyone could ever make. maybe, yeah, i don’t deserve you walking out, avoiding me for two weeks, missing my messages, calls, or notes. maybe i could do better.” he starts, and you feel your heart sinking, knowing that it’d be for the better if it wasn’t you, but wishing so desperately that it could be. “maybe that’s the case, but i’m never going to be happy if i keep looking for better. I don’t hate you because you almost burned down the building, or if you stressed out about rent, and all of these other things that i can’t even remember we talked about.” jake lets out a dry chuckle, trying to remember anything bad about you, but falling short. “the point is, ____, that you can’t make that decision for me. what’s the point in trying to find more when all i’ve ever wanted is you?”

his eyes scan your expression, desperate for an answer as the quiet prolongs. the fresh tears that make way to your eyes springs him into action, and he’s quick to use his long sleeve to pat away your tears. “shh, don’t cry, angel. it’s okay, i understand.” his words replace the icy feeling in your body, and replaces it slowly with the hope that things really are as okay as he says they are. you nod, hugging him as apologies and explanations fall from your lips.

“i still have feelings for you.” he promises, and his words envelop you in comfort and solace. it teeters between like and love, unable to have ever gotten as close as couples do, but also knowing it’s so much more than a small crush on a roommate. there’s nothing temporary about how he rests his head on top of yours, holding you close as you ramble.

“just don’t do anything of the sort again.” he asks, looking at you with adoration. “please.”

your heart breaks a little, and you make a promise to never treat him the way you did, feeling foolish and horrible for what you had done. “i promise.” you nod. and give him a tight hug.

and things are in balance once again. if every reaction had an equal and opposite reaction, it means that you and jake sim have fallen for each other with equal amounts of force, and wouldn’t have it any other way.

WE FINISHEDDDD CHATTTTTTTTTTT YERP YERP YERP WHO CHEERED!! first real enha fic in AGES god save us all.

1K notes · View notes

evermore-fashion · 10 months ago

Text

Did I make a mistake?

As you're all well aware of I said goodbye to my blogs and Tumblr thinking my decision was final. However after reading all your wonderful messages I started to have doubts about my decision. So for the last few weeks I've been trying to pinpoint why I thought I had fallen out of love with high end fashion as well as Tumblr itself and the answer has been in front of my face for the best part of four years. A broken down friendship that has been plaguing my mental health… until recently and I'm going to finally explain why. I had a best friend for the best part of 15 years that went downhill both slowly and unexpectedly. We met on a forum back in 2005 and hit it off instantly. We then met up and went on various holidays, attended concerts together, did mini weekend breaks away and got to know each other's families really well. More importantly they were the only person in my life who knew about this blog and shared my love for high end fashion. Like most friendships though it had its ups and downs but no matter what we always gravitated back towards one another, until March 2020. A week or so before COVID and lockdown took hold of our lives they told me they had met someone. I was genuinely happy for them, except for the fact they had let slip that I was the last person to know. This broke my heart and their trust as they continued to let slip more details that indicated that I was being pushed out in favour of a new crowd (aka university friends who they had told me they disliked a few months beforehand) alongside their new partner. They stayed with their partner on and off throughout COVID and I was either pushed out the door or let back in depending on their relationship status. The relationship came to an end for good towards the end of 2022 and as always I was let back into their life with plans for 2023 being made. However I held back knowing the hurt it would cause me if things suddenly changed again. This was also my breaking point with them as I wanted to protect my heart from anymore hurt, and I believe this is where my love for creativity began to faulter. Whilst I found my love for gaming I felt this mental block around Evermore-Fashion and Evermore-Grimoire which I thought was down to my passions changing. I was clearly wrong. The friendship was up and down for another six months, until last summer. They had got back in contact with me despite the fact they had started acting cold towards me which manifested in a crap Christmas and Birthday. Yet I was still willing to hear their side of the story, but it never came as they ghosted me and I haven't spoken to them since which hasn't been fun to deal with both mentally and emotionally. Although I now fully believe this is what was killing my spirit and everything I had loved for so long. Anyway fast forward to January 2024, I've said goodbye to my blogs and Tumblr when lo and behold I come across a social media post that changed everything. The ex friend had written something personal that contradicted everything they had told me (over their relationship break up) which not only angered me but it lit a fire under my butt to stop stewing in the "what ifs?" as well as holding on to a small bit of hope that they'd finally apologise for treating me like a piece of shit on the back of their shoe for so long. Not only that but I started to miss why I enjoyed being online in the first place. I checked out Vogue to see what was occurring during Paris Fashion Week and I yearned to share the Spring 2024 Couture collections on Tumblr (even though I still think it's still a toxic cesspit). Yes I could easily start this up on Wordpress or Instagram but let's face it, Tumblr is still the easiest place to start blogging creatively. So here I am. The fog surrounding my love for fashion has lifted alongside the mental and emotional baggage I've been holding on to for far too long. There's just one thing I'm still wondering though… do you guys forgive me (as I feel like I've messed you all around ) and is it okay to come back? 🥹

#Personal #Hello again

1K notes · View notes

kaile-hultner · 4 months ago

Text

Help me dig upward: the Tumblr post

In which I talk a little bit about the hole I’ve been in for a hot minute—and what I want to do to dig out of it.

Hey y’all,

For the second time in a few years I’m starting a GoFundMe. This time, though, it’s not for the site, at least not explicitly. It is to help me get out from under the weight of debt that I’ve been carrying for more than a decade at this point, but which has finally gotten so bad that it’s affecting everything from my sleep patterns to my overall mental health and ability to do the thing that you likely already support me for: this website.

If you’ve been wondering why the posting has decreased here, or reduced in quality, or why we started 2024 off publishing other writers and then just as suddenly stopped doing that again, this is why: I am out of money, I am in debt, and it feels like I’m living every day in pure, basic survival mode.

This GFM, in which I’m asking for $10,000, is a moonshot, a Hail Mary. I don’t expect it to raise anything; it will be the last time I ask the Internet for money, whether it works or it doesn’t. If it works, obviously it’ll mean I’ll be able to post more and maybe my mental health will improve and I won’t feel like every moment is a countdown to a terrible ending, and I’ll be able to think of compelling angles to talk about video games again. If it doesn’t work, maybe I’ll figure something else out. Bankruptcy, probably. I don’t know.

I hate doing this. I hate being in this position. I hate that I’ve already asked for money this year and people have been extremely generous and it just feels like all that generosity just went into a hole. I wish I had something to show for that generosity, or proactively for anything I gain from this campaign. So, if there is something you want me to cover or talk about or look at in exchange for your support on this campaign, just shoot me an email with proof of your donation, no matter how small. It’s [email protected]. I can’t promise I’ll write a bunch of magnum opuses at your request but I will do what I can just simply to show appreciation for your support.

Anyway, this feels bad to me and I’m already starting to regret it, so I’m going to wrap this up by saying thank you in advance and I owe you my life. I wish that was figurative.

Edit: here is the text of the GFM I posted.

Hi y’all,

My name is Kaile Hultner. I am an online cultural critic who has been running the video game criticism website No Escape since 2019. My work has been featured in other places like PC Gamer, Polygon and Bullet Points Monthly. And like a lot of people, I have been deeply in debt for years.

Debt is a very strange phenomenon. As anthropologist David Graeber demonstrated in his book Debt: The First 5000 Years, it is a phenomenon that imparts a kind of moral valence on a person; whether or not that person can pay their debts is a sign of their trustworthiness or virtue as a member of polite society. Yet you can’t go without debt: at some point, at least in the United States, you have to pick up a form of debt – credit – to establish your credit score, without which you can’t rent an apartment, buy or lease a car, or, in some cases, even get a job. Being debt-free can harm this score, as can having a credit history that is “too young.”

I’ve been in debt for a long time. I’ve been managing my debt for over a decade. Every year for the last six or seven years in particular it feels like I’m losing progressively more and more ground. Seven years ago I had a car; I could do things like deliver Uber Eats and DoorDash and make extra money whenever I ran out. It broke down in my driveway in 2022 and I couldn’t afford to take it to a mechanic to get it fixed. I sold it for $200. I haven’t been able to replace it. I don’t know what I’ll do if I ever need a car for anything. Luckily my day job is WFH.

Recently, I’ve been fighting with my old bank over charges it erroneously applied to my account in excess of $1000, causing it to go deep into the negatives. I’ve been slowly, slowly digging myself out of that hole thanks to some close friends and some very kind folks who follow me on the Internet. But it’s caused other debts to exacerbate. And tonight I realized that I am at the end of my rope. I can’t do this anymore. I won’t sit here and say that I’ve done everything right; certainly, more than one bad decision made out of desperation has put me here. I won’t make excuses for that. But I’m tired of being here, in this position. I’m tired of waking up in the middle of the night with heart palpitations because I got an alert from my bank that I’m in the negatives. I’m tired of getting emails and phone calls from debt collectors. I’m tired of living in basic survival mode with no discernible path forward. I’m tired of being tired, of not having the energy to be creative and do the work I’ve built an online presence around for five years. And paradoxically, I’m tired of asking people on the internet for money.

So I’m going to ask people on the internet for money, one final time.

I’ve set the goal at $10,000. This is far more than I’m honestly expecting to get, but if I get even a fraction of that I could finally obliterate my debts in a meaningful way. I do have specific milestones that I basically need to meet, otherwise this GFM doesn’t hit its maximum effectiveness, but otherwise the sky is the limit. If I reach the whole amount… I don’t really know what I’ll do. Cry, maybe.

Milestones – bolded are high-priority

Milestone reached! $750 – gets my old bank account out of the negatives. Eliminates one vector of harassment, allows me to close that account and move on.

Milestone Reached! $1800 – does the above and allows me to fully pay any late or past-due loan payments missed as a result of the bank issue.

Milestone Reached! $6000 – does the above and allows me to fully pay off all installment loans

$8000 – does the above and allows me to pay off any remaining debts.

$10,000 – does the above and allows me to start saving.

$10,000+ – basically a moonshot, I have no idea what I’ll do with extra.

I fully do not expect you to donate to this. There are people trying to escape genocides, much more abject poverty, crushing medical debt, and so much more that feel – at least to me – so much more worthy of your attention and money. But just know that if you dodonate something, you have my undying appreciation. I will quite literally owe you my life.

I’m going to post this now before I get too emotional or lose my nerve entirely, but again: thank you. Even if all you do is read this.

—Kaile

#crowdfunding #financial aid #mutual aid

401 notes · View notes

astralis-ortus · 6 months ago

Text

you are my sunshine

✱ a bang chan headcanon

— you'll never know, dear, how much i love you.

w.count → 0.6k genre → slice of life, fluff warning → just watching chan (chris) being a parent :> a.n → something light because brain.exe couldn't handle words atm :> also, would you believe me if i said the actual idea behind this was this specific tiktok... lolㅠ ⋆ see masterlist

growing up, you were always sure you didn’t want to have any kids. you have your reasons, but ultimately, you’re scared you couldn’t be the kind of parents you wanted to be and you don’t want another soul to have to bear those sort of consequences after your inability to be one. you should be the one carrying them, even if it meant people will judge you for it.

being together with chris, however, had changed your mind.

no, not because he coaxed you into wanting one or anything like that—you knew he wanted to have kids, but he wasn’t even bothered when you told him about the matter when the topic of marriage came up. but then, whenever you see him doing even the most mundane of things... you just knew you’d be just fine raising a child together with him.

chris would be very hands on as soon as your baby arrives. he knows the best temperature for the baby formula, he knows how to wash and sterilize the baby bottle, he knows how to change your baby’s diaper—heavens, sometimes you even wondered if chris was a walking encyclopedia for any baby related matters.

chris would also be the one taking care of your baby throughout the night. ‘i’m already up anyway, you deserve the night’s sleep’ he reasoned, and being a man of his words, you would actually sleep through the night as chris would go as far as setting a bassinet in his home studio to make sure he’d be able to keep an eye on your baby while he works.

as your child grew up, chris would make sure to attend as many of the parents-teacher meeting as he possibly could. he knew the nature of his work would cause him to be away for quite a period of time when he had to, but when he could, he would even collude with your kid to ask you to let their dad be the one to take part for the next meeting. he just loved to be present when he could, and you could see it through the way he laugh with your kid.

your child’s puberty hits chris the hardest—your kid did not grow distant in any kind, they still look for their parents a lot, but for chris who used to be attached to your kid like a stamp on an envelope, letting your kid learn how to slowly become their own person felt like he’s slowly losing the little sunshine who used to only look for him. chris knew it’s going to happen eventually, but for the time being, he’ll keep himself busy with the tons of pictures and videos he took when his baby was younger.

another big wave of blue hits when chris had to send off your now young adult child to college. chris wouldn’t let you nor your child see, but you know the tears his studio had seen after you two had gone home from the airport, mere hours after your child flew thousands of miles away to chase after their dreams. despite the amount of calls and texts your family groupchat exchanged, it wasn’t the same without your child being home.

lastly, chris would finally let his tears be known when he had to let his little sunshine start off their own little family. the realization that the little baby who once fits in his arms is now ready to become a parent themselves were proven a little too overwhelming for chris—but everyone understood. everyone saw the mountain that is chris’ love for his child, and they understood.

not to worry, though—because now whenever your child visits with their own little bean,

chris had found himself another sunshine to take care of.

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

471 notes · View notes

harryssyndrome · 3 days ago

Text

Hoax | h.s

summery: “don’t want no other shade blue but you. No other sadness in the world would do…”

based off this request. Thank you so much anon for this idea, this was so fun writing and I hope it’s something you were looking for. I tried to be as angsty as possible with a blend of cutesy sweet, hope it’s a perfect mix. Let me know in the comments? [thank you! mwah mwah mwah 💋]

Posted on: November 26th, 2024. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY OR TRANSLATE MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM. Like, comment & reblog are appreciated 💓Italics are past memories. Hope you lovelies enjoy this little big piece.

wc: 6.6k (oops🤭) || Masterlist 🤍

Tag-List: @fruity-harry @angeldavis777 @wheredidmyeyesgo @cherryloveshs | TAGLIST IS OPEN! || REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! 💌

The morning had started just like any other, the sun streaming in through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow over everything, but YN barely noticed. She sat at the counter, her hands curled around a coffee mug, its warmth barely a match for the cold ache building inside her. The apartment felt empty, despite the soft hum of the city just outside the window. She could feel the weight of the silence pressing down on her, a silence that had grown more oppressive over the past few weeks.

Harry had been on tour for what seemed like forever now, and their communication had dwindled. What had once been late-night calls and stolen moments between sound checks had turned into rushed, distracted conversations, where he was either too busy or too tired to give her his full attention. YN had always known the demands of his career, had always been willing to share him with the world, but it was starting to feel like he was slipping further away from her.

She had tried to be understanding, tried to remind herself that this was just a phase—that he was only gone for a while, and they would find their way back to each other. But today felt different. Something in the air was charged with tension, a sense of dread that hung around her like a cloud. Harry had promised to call her during his break between rehearsals, and as the minutes ticked by, that sense of unease only grew. She hadn’t heard from him, not even a text to explain why.

When the phone finally rang, she grabbed it with an anxious breath, hoping for the reassurance she so desperately needed.

“Hey, babe,” Harry’s voice crackled through the phone, distant and strained. There was a tiredness in his voice that made her heart ache even more.

“Hi,” she replied softly, trying to keep her tone light, but the worry slipped out anyway. “I was starting to wonder if you forgot about me.”

Harry didn’t immediately answer, and YN could feel him shifting on the other end, perhaps looking for the right words, or maybe just gathering the energy to engage with her. “I didn’t forget,” he said after a beat, his voice uncharacteristically flat. “It’s just… things are hectic right now. You know how it is.”

YN frowned, her fingers tightening around her mug. She knew how it was. She knew that Harry’s tour schedule was demanding, that he barely had time to breathe, let alone talk to her. But it was different now. It had been different for weeks, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

“I get it, Harry,” she said softly, trying to keep the frustration from her voice. “But it feels like we haven’t really talked in days. I feel like I’m losing you.”

The words hung in the air between them, thick with unspoken emotions. She didn’t want to say it. She didn’t want to accuse him of pulling away, but she couldn’t ignore what was happening anymore. She missed him. She missed the way they used to connect, how they’d stay up all night talking about their dreams and fears, how they’d laugh until their stomachs ached. Now, it felt like all they did was talk about logistics and time zones. She wanted more than that.

Harry let out a heavy sigh, and for a moment, she thought he was going to apologize, that he would offer the comfort she so desperately needed. But instead, his voice grew colder, his words sharper. “You miss me? Maybe you miss the version of me that you had before all of this. But I’m not the same person anymore, YNN. I’m just tired. Tired of feeling like I’m constantly being pulled in a million directions.”

Her heart sank at his words, the finality in them hitting her harder than she had expected. “What does that mean?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry’s words came out in a rush, almost like he couldn’t stop them, as if they were coming from a place deeper than he intended. “It means that I don’t have the energy for this right now. I don’t have the energy to keep pretending that everything is fine when it’s not. And maybe I’m just tired of pretending that you’re not asking for more than I can give. Maybe I need space. Maybe we both need space.”

The words stabbed her. She felt them deep in her chest, each one like a dagger, twisting further with every breath. “Space?” she echoed, barely able to form the word, the hurt creeping into her voice despite her best efforts to hold it back. “I’m not asking for space, Harry. I’m just asking for you. For the person you promised me you’d always be.”

Harry didn’t respond right away, and when he did, his voice was tight, defensive. “Maybe that person isn’t here anymore, YNN. Maybe that’s what I’m trying to say.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. YN could hear the faint rustling of something on his end of the phone, the noise of people moving in the background, but it didn’t matter. The emptiness between them felt so loud, so unbearable. The connection that once held them together was fraying, thread by thread.

She swallowed hard, the tears welling in her eyes. “Fine,” she said, her voice breaking as she spoke. “If that’s how you feel, then I guess I’ll leave.”

The words came out before she could stop them, and she immediately regretted them. But the damage was done. The silence that followed was deafening, and the weight of Harry’s absence felt so heavy, so crushing, that she could barely breathe. The person she loved, the person she had given everything to, had just told her he was done. He was tired of her.

Before she could say another word, she ended the call. The click of the phone disconnecting felt like the final nail in the coffin, sealing whatever it was that they had left.

YN sat there for a long moment, staring at the phone in her hand as if it were some foreign object. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Her mind was numb, her thoughts tangled in confusion and hurt. The apartment, their shared space, felt so small now. It felt suffocating. Every corner of the place was a reminder of everything that had once been good, everything that was now falling apart.

Tears blurred her vision as she stood up from the counter. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know where to go. But she couldn’t stay there. Not with him, not with the words he had just said. The love they had built felt like ashes, and she couldn’t breathe in the smoke any longer.

She started packing her things, her movements automatic, like she was on autopilot. Her hands shook as she threw clothes into a bag, not caring if they matched or if they were folded neatly. Nothing mattered in that moment except the urgent need to get away from the place that had once been home. She ignored the phone buzzing with messages, messages from Harry, apologizing, pleading with her to call him back. She couldn’t. Not yet. Not after the things he had said.

When she finished packing, she grabbed her bags and walked out the door. The apartment felt even emptier as she closed the door behind her. There were no more goodbyes, no more promises. Just the echo of his hurtful words ringing in her ears.

YN drove to her parents’ house in a daze, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. She couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had happened, about how quickly their love had unraveled. She needed space to think. To breathe. To figure out how to move on from this. But deep down, she knew it wasn’t that simple.

It wasn’t just a fight. It was something deeper. Something that couldn’t be fixed with apologies.

When she pulled into the driveway, she didn’t feel the relief she thought she would. Instead, the silence that had followed her from their apartment seemed to follow her here. Even the familiar sight of her childhood home didn’t offer the comfort it once had. It all felt distant. Empty. Just like her heart.

She stepped out of the car, closing the door behind her with a soft click. As she walked up to the front door, her phone buzzed again. She ignored it. She couldn’t bear to look at it. She couldn’t bear to see his name flashing on the screen. The man she loved had just shattered her heart into a million pieces, and she didn’t know how to pick them up.

The night had been a blur for Harry. The anger, the disappointment, the gnawing guilt in his chest from the argument with YN—it was all too much to bear. In the solitude of his hotel room, far from her, he drowned out the pain with alcohol. He knew he had messed up, knew he had hurt her with his words, but the overwhelming pressure of being on tour, the constant demand of being a public figure, and the exhaustion had driven him to the brink. He had never intended for it to escalate the way it did, but in his drunken haze, it all came crashing down.

Somewhere between the blurry shots and the endless stream of drinks, he found himself in a bar, surrounded by strangers, feeling more alone than he had in a long time. His phone was buzzing on the table, the screen lighting up with YN’s name flashing, but he didn’t pick it up. The coldness in his heart had become too unbearable, and he pushed her away instead of confronting the hurt he had caused. He just wanted the world to stop spinning for a moment. He wanted to forget everything that had gone wrong.

And that was when Emily Ratajkowski had walked in.

They had known each other for years, casually friendly in the way celebrities often are when their circles overlap. Emily, ever the charmer, had greeted Harry with a friendly smile. They sat and talked, their conversation casual at first, just the usual small talk about work and life. But Harry, caught in his haze of regret, had let his guard down. The more they talked, the more the words flowed. In some strange way, it felt easy to talk to her—like she was a stranger he could confide in, someone who didn’t carry the same weight of their past, the years of intimacy and history he shared with YN.

It didn’t take long before the alcohol took its toll. Emily’s laughter had filled the air, and Harry had found himself leaning closer, her presence soothing in a way that made him forget the ache in his chest. Before he knew it, they were kissing. His mind screamed for him to stop, to think about YN, to remember everything he stood to lose. But in that moment, he didn’t. The guilt had been smothered by the fleeting comfort of the kiss, the escape from his spiraling thoughts.

He didn’t remember much after that. The night blurred into incoherence, a jumble of laughter, flashes, and fleeting touches. Harry woke up the next morning, disoriented and groggy, the light filtering through the hotel room window far too bright. His phone was buzzing incessantly, and his stomach churned when he saw the series of missed calls and messages from YN. The weight of it all hit him like a wave, and for a moment, he just sat there, trying to piece together the fragments of his memories.

Then, his phone lit up with an alert—a notification from a gossip website, and his heart dropped into his stomach. There, in front of him, were pictures of him and Emily Ratajkowski, the kind of photos Harry had spent years avoiding. They were kissing, their lips pressed together, captured in a moment of reckless abandon that Harry didn’t even fully remember. The headline was cruel: Harry Styles and Emily Ratajkowski—A New Romance in the Making?

His throat tightened as he scrolled through the photos, his mind racing. He didn’t remember kissing her. He didn’t remember anything about that night except the overwhelming sense of regret that now gripped him. He had ruined everything. The fragile thread holding him together seemed to snap in that moment. He had lost YN, and now the media would make sure the world knew it. His personal life was on full display, and all he could think about was how much he had fucked it all up.

Desperation began to rise in his chest, and without thinking, he began sending text after text to YN, each one filled with apologies, regret, and pleas for her to talk to him. But she didn’t answer. The silence on the other end was deafening.

Meanwhile, YN was in her parents’ house, sitting in the living room with the muted glow of the television casting long shadows across the room. The house, once a place of comfort and warmth, now felt suffocating. Her mother had been quiet ever since YN arrived, sensing the heavy tension in the air. She tried to comfort her daughter, offering tea, but YN couldn’t bring herself to care. The weight of the argument, of the harsh words Harry had said, sat heavily in her chest, gnawing at her.

But when the photos surfaced—when she saw Harry with Emily, their lips locked, the headlines flashing across her phone—her world shattered all over again. The room spun around her, and she felt like she was suffocating. The love she had poured into her relationship with Harry now felt like a cruel joke. She had trusted him. She had believed in him. And now this—this betrayal was too much to bear.

Tears blurred her vision, and she quickly turned away from her phone. Her mother noticed the change in her expression and asked softly, “YN, what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I can’t do this,” YN whispered, choking on her tears. “I can’t keep doing this. I thought he loved me… but now… now I don’t know who he is anymore. It didn’t even take him a night to move on?”

Her mother hugged her tightly, murmuring comforting words, but YN couldn’t hear them. The pain of what she had seen—the public humiliation of it all—felt like a physical weight on her chest. She needed to get away. She needed to clear her head.

“I’m going for a walk,” she said, her voice distant, as if she were speaking to herself rather than her mother.

Her mother nodded, understanding the need for space, and watched as YN stepped outside, the cool evening air wrapping around her like a blanket.

The lake stretched out before her, calm and unbothered by the storm raging inside her. Its surface shimmered faintly under the overcast sky, the golden light of the fading afternoon barely breaking through the thick clouds. The familiar sight of it— the way the trees reflected on the water, the distant sound of birds, the rhythmic lapping of waves against the shore-should have brought YN the comfort she was seeking. But all it did was make her chest tighten with a suffocating ache.

She had always come to this place for solace, even as a child. The lake by her parents' house was her sanctuary, a space where the noise of the world couldn't touch her. But now, as she stood there, arms wrapped tightly around herself against the crisp autumn air, the silence was deafening. It wasn't peace she found here today. It was the echo of memories she had desperately tried to bury since she walked out of the home she had once shared with Harry.

Her boots crunched softly against the earth as she made her way closer to the water's edge, the damp grass soaking the hem of her dress. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it the faintest scent of pine and earth. But YN didn't notice. Her mind was far away, replaying a reel of memories she wished she could turn off. No matter how much she tried to focus on the present, her past with Harry came rushing back to her, vivid and bittersweet.

She crouched down near the shore, her fingertips brushing against the cool surface of the water. As ripples spread outward, her thoughts drifted to another time, another version of herself-a happier one. She closed her eyes, and it all came rushing back as if she were still there.

It had been a summer evening, the sun setting in brilliant hues of orange and pink.

Harry had been sitting on the dock, legs stretched out, his feet just barely skimming the water. YN had been lying beside him, her head resting on his thigh as they shared a bottle of wine they had stolen from her parents' pantry. The lake had been their escape that summer, a place where the chaos of Harry's career and the pressures of the world seemed to melt away.

"This place is magic," Harry had murmured, running his fingers absentmindedly through her hair. His voice had been low, almost reverent, as he looked out at the water.

YN had tilted her head to glance up at him, a smile tugging at her lips. "You always say that," she teased. "But you're not wrong."

He grinned, his dimple deepening as he looked down at her. "It's true, though. Don't you feel it? It's like... time stops here. Like nothing bad can touch us."

She had laughed softly, the sound blending with the gentle rustle of the trees.

"That's what l've always loved about this place. It's quiet. Peaceful. Away from everything."

Harry had hummed in agreement, his gaze softening as he studied her. "One day, YNN... one day l'd love to settle down somewhere like this. Away from the noise. Just us."

Her breath had caught at his words, her heart skipping a beat. "Just us?" she'd asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Well," he'd added, his lips twitching into a playful smile, "maybe not just us. I'm thinking a couple of little ones running around, maybe a dog... or two."

YN's heart skipped at his words, her stomach flipping in that way it always did when he hinted at their future. She laughed, nudging him playfully. "Little ones, huh? You planning on starting a family with me already, Styles?"

Harry grinned, his dimple showing as he leaned closer, the teasing glint in his eyes softening into something deeper. "Why not? I mean it, YNN. I'd love that. A house by the lake. Waking up every morning with you by my side. Teaching our kids how to fish or swim or whatever it is people do out here. It sounds perfect."

Her breath caught as she looked at him, the sincerity in his words tugging at something deep within her. "It does," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "It sounds perfect."

He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her cheek. "You're perfect," he murmured, and before she could respond, he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips.

The world had faded away then, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in a bubble of love and possibility.

“I wouldn’t want anything less than forever when it comes to you.”

His words had settled into her heart like a warm glow, and she had leaned in to kiss him, the taste of wine still lingering on his lips. In that moment, with the sun setting and the world quiet around them, she had believed him. She had believed in forever.

YN blinked, the memory dissolving as the present came crashing back. The lake was still, the air cold, and Harry wasn't there. Her chest ached as she stared at the dock, the image of them sitting there overlaying the reality of its emptiness. She could almost hear his laughter, feel his hand in hers, but it was all in her mind.

The betrayal burned anew, the image of him with Emily flashing behind her eyes.

How could he have said those things, painted that picture of their future, and then so carelessly let it all fall apart? How could he kiss someone else after everything they had shared?

How had they gone from that to this? How had the man who once promised her forever ended up kissing someone else? The image of Harry and Emily flashed in her mind again, sharper this time, and her stomach twisted. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, trying to hold together the pieces of her heart that felt like they were falling apart.

The lake, once her sanctuary, now felt like a cruel reminder of everything she had lost. The life she had envisioned with Harry-the house by the lake, the little ones running around, the forever they had dreamed of-felt like a distant, unattainable dream. And yet, no matter how much she wanted to hate him, to shut him out completely, her heart wouldn't let her. She still loved him, even now, even after everything.

YN sank down onto the grass, her knees pulled to her chest, tears streaming freely now. She thought of the countless nights they had spent talking about their dreams, their plans. The way Harry had once made her feel so safe, so sure of their love. And now, it all felt like a cruel joke, a dream turned nightmare.

"Why, Harry?" she whispered into the stillness. "Why did you have to ruin everything?"

The question hung in the air, unanswered, as the sun dipped lower on the horizon.

She let herself cry then, the sobs wracking her body as she finally allowed herself to feel the full weight of her heartbreak. The lake bore silent witness to her pain, its surface rippling gently as if trying to offer her some semblance of comfort.

The lake, once her sanctuary, now felt like a graveyard for their love.

When she returned to the house, her heart felt heavy, each step laden with the weight of everything she was feeling. But it wasn't the emptiness of the house that grabbed her attention; it was the faint sound-the small, deliberate taps against the window. At first, she thought it was the rain playing tricks on her, the gentle taps against the glass. But when she heard it again-sharp and insistent-her breath caught in her throat.

Her mind didn't even have time to process it fully. She spun toward the window, her heart pounding in her chest. And there he was.

Harry.

He stood in the pouring rain, his face pale, his hair clinging to his skin. His clothes were soaked through, and his hands trembled slightly as he threw small pebbles at the window, as if trying to wake her from a nightmare she couldn't escape. She stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do. Was this real? Was this the same man who had hurt her so badly?

But then, she saw it in his eyes-the desperation. The raw vulnerability. The silent plea for forgiveness that spoke louder than words ever could. He was standing there, drenched, with nothing left to lose. He was a broken man, and in that moment, she could see that he knew he had ruined everything.

Before she could stop herself, she ran to the down to the front door, threw it open, and without thinking, rushed outside into the rain.

The rain fell in torrents, its relentless downpour drowning out all sound except for the beat of water against the ground. Harry stood before YN, drenched, his eyes wide with desperate urgency, a look of raw pain etched into every line of his face. His clothes clung to his body, soaked through, but it was nothing compared to the turmoil inside of him.

“YN…” His voice broke, as if the weight of her name was too much to bear. His hand reached out shakily, desperate to bridge the gap between them, but she pulled away slightly. He flinched, not from her rejection, but from the weight of his own guilt that seemed to pull him lower with every passing second.

“I—” He took a breath, trying to steady himself, but his words tumbled out in a frantic rush. “I never meant for it to be this way. I never meant to hurt you, YNN. I swear, I never thought—God, I was so drunk, so damn stupid. I don’t even remember what happened, but I know I messed up. I know I messed everything up.”

YN’s heart clenched painfully in her chest. She wanted to scream at him, to tell him how much he had hurt her, how much his words still stung like a constant ache in her soul. But instead, she stood there, her breath coming in ragged bursts, staring at him as he trembled in the rain. She wasn’t sure whether it was the cold of the storm or the pain inside him that made him shudder, but it was impossible to ignore the depth of his regret.

“You do remember, Harry,” she finally spoke, her voice shaking but strong. “You remember everything, even if you don’t remember that moment. You remember the things you said to me. You remember how you treated me. How you—” She stopped herself, not wanting to continue with the painful words. But the memory of his cutting tone, his dismissive words, echoed in her mind, taunting her, making her question everything they had ever shared. “I trusted you. I loved you. And you—you broke me.”

Harry’s eyes welled with unshed tears as he took a step toward her, this time not caring if she pulled away. He was beyond caring about the rain, beyond caring about anything except for the woman standing before him, the one person who had always been his everything.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, and she could see the raw vulnerability in his eyes. “I know I broke you. And that’s the worst part of it. I never wanted to hurt you. Not in a million years. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, YNN. You’re it for me, you always have been.” He reached for her again, but this time she didn’t pull away. His fingers brushed against hers, a tentative touch, as if he were afraid she might vanish the moment he let go.

“But I let my stupid insecurities, my stupid mistakes, cloud everything,” he continued, his voice cracking. “I’ve never been more scared of losing someone than I am of losing you, and I couldn’t see that until now. I couldn’t see that you are the one I need. That it’s not the fame, it’s not the tour, it’s not anyone or anything else—it’s you, YN. You’re the only thing that matters.”

The words hung in the air like fragile threads, each one trembling with a rawness that made Ashley’s heart ache in ways she didn’t think possible. The anger, the hurt—it was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but now there was something else too: hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t all lost.

She swallowed hard, her throat dry. She wanted to push him away, wanted to shout at him for what he had done, but when she looked at him—really looked at him—there was something so devastatingly human about him, standing there, shaking in the rain. He was broken, but there was sincerity in his apology, a plea that reached her heart in ways his words never had before.

“You don’t even understand what you’ve done to me, Harry,” she said, her voice quivering as she took a step back. “You think it’s just about what happened with her, with Emily? It’s not. It’s about everything that led up to that moment. It’s about the words you said to me, the way you dismissed everything we had, everything I gave you. It’s about how you made me feel like I wasn’t enough.”

Harry closed his eyes, a silent tear slipping down his cheek. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way, YNN. I never wanted you to feel like you weren’t enough. You’re everything to me. I’ve been an idiot, and I know I’ve hurt you, but please… don’t let this be the end for us. I can’t lose you. I just can’t… live without you. I can’t.”

The storm raged around them, but the silence between them felt deafening, thick with the weight of everything unsaid, everything unresolved. YN could feel the anger still bubbling inside her, but she also felt the pull of something deeper—the love she had for him, the love that she had thought was gone, but now seemed to flicker in her chest like a fragile flame.

She wanted to stay angry, to hold onto the hurt, but something inside her was giving way.

“Harry, I…” Her voice faltered, the words catching in her throat as her chest tightened painfully. “I don’t know if I can forgive you right now. I need time. I need space to figure this out.” She shook her head, unable to meet his eyes as the tears finally spilled over, mingling with the rain. “I don’t know if I can go back to who we were. You hurt me too much.”

He stepped forward again, his hand reaching for her, trembling with the force of his desperation. “Please, YN. I’ll do anything. I’ll give you all the space you need. I’ll be patient, I swear. I’ll wait as long as it takes. But don’t walk away from me. Please.”

She didn’t respond immediately. The storm had drowned out every thought, every hesitation in her mind, but there was still one thing she knew for certain: she couldn’t let him go. Not yet. She wasn’t ready. Not when her heart was still so tangled up in him, so unable to let go of the person he had once been to her.

“I need time,” she repeated softly, her voice barely audible against the pounding rain. “I need to think, Harry. Please, just… just go inside. I can’t—” She couldn’t finish the sentence, not without breaking apart completely.

Harry nodded, his face a picture of heartbreaking understanding. His heart was in pieces, but he was willing to wait, willing to do whatever it took to prove that he could make things right. Without another word, he turned toward the house, slowly, unwilling to leave her in the storm but knowing that he had to respect her need for space.

YN watched him go, her heart heavy in her chest, torn between love and hurt, between forgiveness and anger. The rain continued to pour, and as she stood there, feeling the cold seep into her bones, she wondered if they would ever find their way back to each other—or if this was the beginning of the end.

The night had felt like an eternity. Each minute stretched on, filled with haunting thoughts and the pounding rhythm of YNs heart. Her mind was tangled in knots, the anger still burning bright, but beneath it all, there was an undercurrent of something she couldn’t deny: the love she still had for Harry. It was the kind of love that had once felt so pure, so easy, but now felt fractured, jagged, like trying to hold onto a shattered glass piece that was bleeding into her heart.

She hadn’t been able to sleep. The past few days, the pain, the betrayal, the anger—it all swirled together in a mess that made her restless. Harry’s words from the night before—the desperate, raw apology—replayed over and over again in her mind, like a broken record. And yet, each time she thought of it, the hurt crept back in. She had tried to push it away, tried to convince herself that she could ignore it, but the reality was that she couldn’t. Not when the memories of their love, of their happy moments, still clung to her like the scent of his cologne.

But it wasn’t just the hurt she was feeling. There was something else, something deeper, something that felt too real to ignore. She couldn’t escape the way her heart still responded to Harry, no matter how hard she tried.

As the morning light began to filter through the windows, YN could no longer stay in the silence of her room. She had to see him. She had to confront everything that had happened and, maybe—just maybe—find a way to heal. But even as the desire to see him grew stronger, there was still that gnawing uncertainty. Could she really trust him again? Could she really forgive him for what had happened?

The house was quiet as she made her way down the stairs, the soft creak of the wooden steps echoing in the otherwise still air. The soft hum of the morning felt foreign against the heaviness that weighed on her shoulders, but she ignored it, pushing forward. When she stepped outside, the cold hit her like a rush, but it was nothing compared to the chill in her heart.

The lake was quiet, still as glass, the air thick with the faint scent of damp earth and fresh water. And there, sitting on the grass at the edge of the lake, was Harry. His posture was slumped, his shoulders drooped, as though the weight of the world was resting on him. The sight of him in this state, so broken and vulnerable, pulled at her heart in ways she couldn’t explain.

He looked so small, so lost.

For a moment, YN stood there, watching him. She wasn’t sure what to do, what to say. But as she watched him, she realized that she couldn’t stay away. Not anymore. She had to speak. She had to let him know how much he had hurt her, but also how much she still cared, despite everything.

Her footsteps were quiet on the soft earth as she made her way toward him. Harry didn’t look up immediately, but she could see the slight twitch of his head as if he felt her presence. His face was blank, his eyes staring out at the water, but there was something in the way he held himself that spoke volumes.

YN stopped just a few feet away, standing still as the silence stretched between them. For what felt like an eternity, neither of them spoke. The tension was thick, palpable, like a heavy fog.

Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore. The silence, the uncertainty. She had to break it.

“I don’t even know where to start, Harry,” she said, her voice trembling just slightly as she crossed her arms over her chest, trying to protect herself from the rawness of the moment. “You hurt me. You really hurt me. And I don’t know if I can ever forget what you said to me. What you did to us.”

Harry flinched, as if each word she spoke cut through him. He finally lifted his head, his red-rimmed eyes meeting hers. There was guilt in those eyes, raw and undeniable. His voice came out barely above a whisper.

“I’m sorry, YNN. I’m so sorry. I can’t even begin to explain how much I regret everything. I was angry, and I was drunk, and I didn’t—” He cut himself off, his hands shaking as he clenched them into fists at his sides. “I never meant to hurt you. Not like that. You’re everything to me, YNN. You always have been.”

YN took a deep breath, her chest tight with the conflicting emotions. She wanted to stay angry, to protect herself from the pain he’d caused, but she couldn’t deny that his words, his remorse, were hitting something deep inside her. It wasn’t enough to erase the hurt, but it was a start. She looked at him, really looked at him, and saw how broken he was. He was a man who had made a mistake, but he was also a man who still cared for her.

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I don’t want to live in the hurt and the anger. I want to move past this, but I need to know that you’ll never do this again. I need to know that you’re willing to fight for us.”

Harry’s eyes welled up, the emotion overwhelming him. He reached out then, taking her hand gently, almost like he was afraid she might pull away. “I swear to you, YNN. I’ll fight for us. I’ll fight for you. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. I’ll spend every single day proving to you that you’re worth more than anything, more than the stupid mistakes I’ve made. You mean everything to me.”

YN’s breath caught in her throat. It was impossible to ignore the depth of his words, the rawness in his voice. But it wasn’t just the words that got to her; it was the sincerity in his eyes, the vulnerability that he rarely showed anyone, let alone her.

She stepped closer to him, her heart pounding as she tried to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. She had been so angry, so broken, but looking at him now, she realized that she couldn’t just walk away.

“I want to believe you, Harry,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “I really do. But I need time. I need time to heal, to trust you again.”

Harry’s face softened, relief flooding through him. “I understand. Take all the time you need. I’ll be here, every step of the way. I’ll prove to you that I’m worth it. That we’re worth it.”

And in that moment, everything felt a little bit clearer. The storm inside her had not fully subsided, but the clouds were beginning to part, and the sun was starting to peek through. She stepped closer, closing the distance between them, and in one slow, careful motion, she placed her hand on his chest. The steady beat of his heart under her palm was a reminder of how much he still cared.

“I’m willing to try,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m willing to try if you promise me that you’ll never let me go again.”

Harry’s eyes shone with tears, and he pulled her into his arms, his hands cupping her face gently as he kissed her forehead, his lips brushing softly over her skin. “I promise you, YNN. I’ll never let you go. You’re my everything. I love you.”

YN closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her. She hadn’t been sure if she could forgive him, if she could ever move past the hurt. But standing here in his arms, feeling his heart beat against hers, she realized that love wasn’t always easy. It wasn’t always simple. But it was worth fighting for.

“I love you too,” she whispered back, her voice trembling with emotion.

And as they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world around them felt a little less heavy, a little less uncertain. The future was still unclear, but for the first time in a long time, they both had hope.

They’ll be alright.

255 notes · View notes

megwritesriddles · 28 days ago

Text

No Ghosts ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Sebastian (Stardew Valley) x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 19 - Public sex. On the way back to the farm from the Spirit's Eve celebrations, Readers night takes a sudden but pleasurable turn.

Tags: Public sex, Unprotected sex, Against a tree, Dirty talk, Dom!Sebastian, Praise kink, Mild possessive behaviour, Established relationship, Hint of fluff, Very brief sense of fear.

Word count: 2.3k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Happy Hallowen!! This is mildly Halloween themed, Sebastian dresses as Ghostface but doesn't keep the mask on (sorry to my mask kink folks)!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

You left the town square in a very good mood. You skipped down the path toward your farm, wishing the night could have lasted a little longer. The Spirit’s Eve festival had been fun, spending time with your friends was always enjoyable, but coupled with funny costumes and general merriment, you felt lighter than you had in a while. You’d had a little to drink, played games and eaten plenty of candy. Even Sebastian had cracked a smile every once in a while, although you supposed he liked the dark spooky atmosphere of the holiday and the skeletons. He found the skeletons quite fascinating, and you had stood there together watching them for quite a while, you sipping a pumpkin-spiced drink, his hand on your hip, holding you to his side. He’d dressed up as Ghostface, just wearing all black and carrying around a mask he occasionally put on to piss off some of the older townsfolk. They felt his costume was too scary for the children, but he’d just scoffed them off. Vincent had actually seemed to quite like it, but presumably because he didn’t have any context for the character. He’d found it funny and even asked to try on the mask, but Jodi had intervened.

As the lights of the town dimmed away behind you, you began to feel a little more uneasy. You didn’t usually stay out this late, other than in the mines, but that felt safer somehow, despite the literal monsters. You supposed city life had instilled a fear in you of walking alone in the dark that couldn’t quite be shaken, even in the safety of Pelican Town. You try to comfort yourself. Who exactly was going to jump out at you? The biggest creep in town was Clint, but he seemed preoccupied enough with Emily that he was likely to leave you alone and even if he wasn’t… would he really do something bad? You weren’t sure. You kept walking, getting gradually a little more jumpy. It seemed much darker than a normal night, a thick covering of clouds blocking out the light from the moon. It had been unnoticeable in the town square, with all the Jack-O-Lanterns and torches, but now that they were all gone, the true darkness was evident and rather frightening. You wonder a little pissily why Sebastian hadn’t offered to walk you home, he usually did when it was dark out, but he’d sort of disappeared not long after you’d announced you were headed home. You sigh to yourself, wondering if you should start a fight with him about it the next time you see him. You did usually insist he didn’t have to walk you home, maybe he’d finally listened, although it seemed an odd time to start, the scariest night of the year. You listen for the sounds of squirrels skittering past occasionally, making sure there are no louder noises in the eerie silence.

“Boo!” a loud voice shocks your blood cold, making you stumble backwards. Your head spins with fear for a moment as a dark figure jumps onto the path for a moment. Then you spot the Ghostface mask and scowl deeply.

“Sebastian!” you hiss. “Not fucking funny!” you place a hand on your chest, trying to calm your breathing. He laughs loudly, pulling the mask off and coming towards you, a shit-eating grin on his face as he drops it on the ground somewhere. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close, still chuckling lowly.

“You big scaredy cat,” he teases, leaning in to kiss your neck softly, feeling your still slightly pounding pulse beneath his lips.

“Fuck off! I’m a lone woman walking around at night, of course I was scared,” you huff. He pulls back to look at you, biting his lip.

“I didn’t think of that,” he admits, rubbing your sides softly. “I’m sorry, baby,” he hums, leaning back in to kiss your neck. “I’ll scare you in the daytime next time, yeah baby?”

“I hate you,” you grumble, feeling him grin into your neck in response. You can’t help but smile a little yourself.

“No, you don’t baby,” he nips at the skin of your collarbone, careful not to leave a mark no matter how desperately he wants to. His hands rub up and down your sides slowly, mapping out the shape of you. He kisses up your neck to your jaw and finally to your lips, pulling you right up against him as your lips connect. You kiss back, tangling your hand into his black locks, pressing closer to him too. His hand settles on your lower back, using his other hand to grip the flesh of your ass, pulling you against him. He’s half-hard already, softly guiding you to rub against him.

“Mmm, we should get back to mine,” you whisper, trying to detangle from his arms, but he holds you tight to him, growling softly.

“I don’t want to wait,” he rumbles, moving in to kiss you again. He starts back you towards a wide sturdy tree.

“What? My place is literally– mmph– like two minutes away?” you mumble between sensual kisses, as he presses your back to the tree, only just out of view of the footpath.

“Don’t care, need your pussy right now,” he whispers, reaching down to flick open the button of his jeans. Your mouth falls open into an ‘o’ shape, surprised by his demeanour. Even in the very dim light, you can see the deep lust in his eyes as he wrestles his jeans down. You suppose this path isn’t used by anyone but you very often… He interrupts your train of thought. “Come on, be a good girl and get those tights off for me,” he palms himself through his boxers, leaning in to kiss your neck again. You’re a little surprised by his neediness and stand motionless for a moment. His free hand reaches around and pats your ass. “Now, baby, the panties too,”

You spring into action, leaning down to pull down your patterned costume tights, fighting slightly against the constricting fabric, trying not to rip it. His hand settles into your hair, stroking softly while you fiddle around, his other hand still gently caressing his ever-hardening cock. Your tights and underwear finally fall around your ankles and you look up at him. He uses his hand in your hair to pull you in, kissing you again, passionate and open-mouthed, his tongue swirling around yours. Then, taking hold of your waist, he whirls you around and presses your front against the tree. You gasp, bracing your hand in front of your head so you’re not leaning your cheek onto the bark. Sebastian spots this and rustles around for a second, taking off his hoodie, leaving him in a worn band-tee underneath. He haphazardly folds up the plush garment and pulls you into him, positioning the hoodie so you can use it as a pillow against the tree. You lean back forward, your cheek now against it, relieved by the plush material and feeling a rush of arousal at his scent so powerful by your nose, cigarettes, cologne and a hint of a natural musk that is so distinctly his you could pick it out of a line-up. You nuzzle into the material, smelling it deeply as his hands flip up your skirt and knead the flesh of your ass.

“That better baby?” he grunts, gripping your cheeks and spreading you open for his viewing pleasure. You nod. “Mmm, this perfect pussy, just begging to be filled with my cock,” he growls. “Tell me you need my cock,”

“Need your cock,” you mumble softly, shivering at the cool air against your overheated core. He grips your ass a little tighter, groaning pleasurably.

“That’s my girl, so needy for me that you’ll let me fuck you on a public path, huh?” he taunts, sliding his cock slowly between your folds. “Do you like it? The idea that anyone could walk past and see us like this, know what a needy thing you are for me, how completely I have you undone?” He starts to slowly sink into your warmth, hissing. “Yeah? Do you want everyone to see how perfectly you take my cock? To see how needy I am for you? You want that don’t you baby?” he grunts, finally bottoming out, leaving you both panting. You shut your eyes, hiding your flushed face in the material of his hoodie. He grips your waist with one hand, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. His other hand comes up, pulling the neckline of your shirt down over your shoulder so he can suck a mark into your skin, somewhere you can keep it hidden during these colder fall months. His teeth pull gently at your skin as he starts to rock against you. You stutter out a moan, bracing your hands against the tree trunk. His hand moves to grope at your clothed breast as he slowly thrusts in and out of you. “You feel so perfect, you always feel so perfect– nnghh– fuck baby,” he groans, rocking into you a little faster. Your lips part and you let out soft moans with each of his thrusts, but he can tell you’re holding back on him. He slams forward suddenly, sheathing his whole length inside of you. You can’t help but let out a loud moan, quickly biting your lip in an attempt to stop it. “No, don’t you dare bite your lip,” he hisses, repeating the punishing thrust.

“Seb…” you whine loudly, your lip falling from between your teeth. Your body jerks forward with his movement and you vaguely feel the scratch of the bark through the material of your clothes, it oddly heightens the experience. In a vain attempt to muffle yourself, you press your face into the hoodie, breathing hard through your nose, but it doesn’t work. Sebastian won’t let you off that easily, keeping up his wild pace, coaxing louder and louder sounds from you.

“Let the whole town hear who you belong to, you’re not ashamed of me, are you?” he taunts, biting down on your shoulder, making you whimper.

“Th-that’s not– ahh!- fair,” you struggle to get the words out, moans springing forward involuntarily from your chest as he fucks into you. He wraps an arm firmly around your middle, using the leverage to ram even deeper into you. You wail out in pleasure, scratching slightly at the trunk of the tree.

“Taking me so fucking well, baby,” he grunts. “Perfect, perfect, perfect,” his pace becomes faster and a little more erratic. You know what’s coming and the thought makes you moan out once more. His hand slams into the tree trunk above you for balance, fucking into you with reckless abandon. “My dirty girl, always willing to do anything just to get my cock buried in you,” his voice shakes with the intensity of the pleasure coursing through him. You cry out repeatedly, both in response to the snaps of his hips against yours as well as the words spilling from his mouth. His arm around your middle tightens as he feels your legs start to weaken and give out. “Gonna come, pretty girl?” he growls.

“Yes,” you sob desperately, not even able to keep yourself quiet anymore, despite having your face pressed into his hoodie. You can only pray your voice isn’t carrying into town, hopefully Harvey shut his windows tonight.

“Say my name, let everyone know who is making you come!” he demands harshly, his thrusts never once relenting.

“Seb!” you wail, feeling him nip your shoulder chastisingly. You moan loudly, knowing what he wants. “S-Sebastian!” you cry, struggling through the syllables, but it leaves him satisfied nonetheless.

“Good girl, come for me,” he orders. Like a damn breaking, you scream once more, your walls constricting around him. He growls loudly in your ear. “Yeah that’s it, come on my cock,” you pulse around him, driving him to bury himself into you to the hilt and empty himself into you with a furious roar. He holds you tightly to him, panting as he comes down, his lips ghosting across your neck. Now that the arousal and physical activity has ceased, you both start to feel cold, the nippy midnight air infiltrating your little bubble of pleasure. He withdraws from you slowly, making you both shiver a little. “Mmm, that was fun, wasn’t it baby?” he chuckles, sounding a little winded. You just nod, carefully straightening up from against the tree, his arm still around your middle. You move his hoodie, brushing off some of the debris from the other side and your palms. He sighs happily from behind you. “The whole world knows who you belong to now,” he teases, nipping your earlobe. He pulls back so that the both of you can readjust your clothing. You carelessly pull up your tights, not bothering to adjust them properly, watching as he tucks himself away and pulls up his jeans. “Am I coming to yours?” he enquires, taking his hoodie from you as if he’s about to put it on but then wrapping it around your shoulders, tying the sleeves in the front to secure it.

“Sure if you like, I’ve got some more pumpkin soup from the carving that I probably won’t finish on my own,” you sigh, leaning into his arms as he embraces you, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Pumpkin soup and a beautiful girl to hold by the fire…” he muses, littering a few kisses down your cheek. “I think I would be insane to say no to that,”

“Let’s go then,” you start to move sluggishly, he pulls you back for a moment.

“Can’t forget my mask so I can scare you in the morning,” he grins. You scoff and roll your eyes, swatting his chest, making him chuckle. He lets go of you for a moment to grab the long-since discarded Ghostface mask off the path, shaking some dust off of it.

“I hate you,” you grumble as he returns to your side, slipping his arm around your waist, his hand resting on your hip.

“No, you don’t”

“No,” you admit with a fond smile, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I don’t,”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

229 notes · View notes

sscieloz · 8 months ago

Text

Comatose

Ning Yizhuo x Reader

Synopsis: you and ning have been best friends ever since you could remember. but she’s been distant lately, and you can’t help but wonder where does she go to every single night.

Warnings: cnc (? maybe?). smut. nsfw.

Word count: 4.8k

Notes: I’m trying to get into darker themes for 2024. writing different prompts, challenging myself. I apologize if I it’s off putting. pls say something if it is!

Ning Yizhuo was a good girl.

She never skipped classes, never talked back or raised her voice at elders, never missed a day of bible school, and never forgot to flicker the lights in her room whenever you were going to sleep.

Yet, she earned for more.

She was ambitious. Has always been, ever since she was a little girl. She’s had this feeling in her chest for ages, a clear warning that she was born in the wrong place: she didn’t belong in this small town, surrounded by rich fuckers that did nothing but label people and gossip all day. She was more than a close-knit community that lived off balls and charity events to make up for the fact that everyone who lived there were scrumptious, vile people. Those people did not represent herself at all.

Someday, she’d be truly free of the chains that tied her to this place.

For now, she was content enough with adjusting the helmet in her head, hopping on her bike to seek things that would make her forget about the life she lived, even if just for one night.

—

“And where is Mrs. Yizhuo once again, Y/n?” Your teacher’s voice echoed harshly from behind you, as you positioned your hands on the piano to start your lesson for the day.

“She’s sick, Mrs. Lee.” You straighten your posture, hoping to get more credibility. “She took many meds this morning. I think she’ll be sleeping all day to recover. I’m sorry.”

The teacher gives you a knowing look, but says nothing once you begin to practice the same songs over and over, until your fingers hurt from the repetitive movements.

You send Ningning several messages as soon as the woman looks away. She’s your best friend, of course you’d cover for her even without her asking for it. Although you don’t think she cares, anyway.

She’s been acting so different lately. Like somebody else; a different girl, different person. It was as if you didn’t know her at all.

You’ve been next-door neighbors ever since you could remember, always there for each other. That, along with the fact that your parents are part of a close-knit friend group that has been friends ever since high-school, made it easy for her to be your other half, your soulmate. Her house was right next to yours, and you’ve developed a habit of checking if her room had the lights on whenever you were anxious. Ning was your best friend, and you did everything together: from hanging out at each other’s houses to attending choir and piano lessons every single day.

That was until she changed. Suddenly, she was distant: disappearing out of nowhere, not answering any of your calls and texts all day and coming back dirty, sweaty and breathless — her hair stinking with smoke. The only thing you could rely on was the flickering of her bedroom lights, every single day when the clock hit your bedtime. You were rigid with your routine, and Ning knew that. She’s never missed it, and it comforted your heart, somehow. To know that deep inside, she was still your Ningning.

You often had to make up lies wherever you went, making up endless excuses for her absences, but at some point, it got unsustainable— she stopped showing up, without saying anything to anyone. Ning wore all black, with tight skirts and black stockings, and often had a bored look on her face, silently challenging anyone to come at her and say something.

No one ever did, obviously. People merely stared as she passed by, disdain etched on their faces.

You knew she hated living in a small city, although, you didn’t mind living so yourself. There was something comforting in knowing everyone, and oddly enough, you felt safe to feel there was always a pair of eyes watching out for you — not watching you, no. Well, people could do that, too: be excessively mean and controlling at times, but you know how to set your boundaries well. You played your part, being a former straight A student who was now attending the local university, with plans to join your step-father at the architecture company he owned, once you were done with your studies. You had been the perfect little debutant, and could always be found next to your friends or your parents at the charity events and lavish galas hosted by the community. You couldn’t say it wasn’t suffocating at times, but it wasn’t like you completely hated it.

Clearly, you were unable to say the same for Ningning. What had stirred this change inside of her? Your chest burned every time you thought about it, eager to know. You yearned to be a part of her life again, yet a small part of your brain was too afraid to ask her about it, knowing she’d answer you wholeheartedly.

You hated the change. You missed your best friend too much. You missed the old her.

The Ning who would flick her lights to let you know she was there, whenever it was time for you to go to sleep. The Ning who let you cry on her shoulder for hours at your grandfather’s funeral. The Ning who would attend the school games to see you cheer, who stood by your side when your dad left, and who washed all of your fears away when your mother remarried.

That was your soulmate; the Ningning who was always there for you. Not the reckless girl with a blank face who didn’t seem to care about a single thing.

Although, you were beginning to think you did not know her at all.

—

“Can I come?” You ask, trying to suppress a shiver as the wind blows cold against your body. It had certainly not been the best idea to wear a white, short dress with even tinier undershorts and boots in autumn, but you couldn’t think about anything else to put on.

With only a leather jacket to warm off your body, your eyeliner, smudged, dark makeup and heavy jewelry mirrored the girl standing in front of you, and you can’t help but smile.

You’d fit in well.

“Excuse me?” Ningning exclaims, frowning in disbelief.

“I want to come with you.” You repeat yourself, holding your own hands nervously. “You’ve changed, Ning. I’m not stupid… I just want to understand. Would you show it to me, please?”

You hate the way she’s looking at you, like she’s still deciding whether to allow yourself into her new world. You also hate the way your voice cracks, always vulnerable when it comes to her.

After minutes of staring, Ning decides to give you a chance. Shrugging, she leaves you alone on the sidewalk as she returns to her garage, shoving a helmet into your chest.

“Fine. But say anything funny, and I’ll leave you there alone. Got it?” You nod, trying not to feel hurt by her indifference towards you.

After a few clumsy attempts, you manage to hop in on her fancy bicycle, hands trapped tightly on her thin waist. You often spied on Ning going out with a dark motorbike you were sure her parents hadn’t bought her. However, as the two of you go at full speed through the night, you feel like you understand her a little better: it’s so freeing, to just ride on the freeway as the wind messes up your hair. You laugh, hugging her tighter, the only thought crippling your mind being over how beautiful the moon looked in the cloudless night, alone in all its glory.

Before you register, Ningning parks her bike carefully. If not for the fact that the place was absolutely crowded, you wouldn’t be able to tell this was the place she’s been sneaking out too frequently. It’s simple: just many cars parked in a circle, occupying the large freeway as people stand against them like ants. You guess someone must’ve blocked the way so no unwanted cars would drive by, but that was a lucky guess.

Nevertheless, you’re struck by a sudden heat wave — being surrounded by a fairly large, energetic crowd was enough for you to feel your face getting warmer, much to your liking. The atmosphere was lively, electricity hanging in the air almost palpably. It was as if everyone were anticipating, waiting for something, and you were nearly sure Ning was involved in that.

“There.” She motions to the right area of the crowd, waving at someone unknown to you. “Let’s go.”

You try to act cool as she grabs your hand to guide you through the crowd, failing terribly. The truth is, it’s been months since she’s talked to you, touched you properly. Perhaps you missed Ningning much more than you could admit, judging by the serotonin boost you’d gotten by a mere touch from her.

Ning stops in front of a black Dodge, where three girls stand with bored looks. They’re all wearing black and red, in some sort of subtle color coordination. You notice Ning’s outfit follows the theme, too, her crimson crop top standing out from her black pants and leather jacket.

“You’re late, Ningning.” Giselle says, not bothering to look at you as she chews on her gum, hands brushing her hair ever so flawlessly. She’s beautiful — they all are, and there’s something in the way they pose; as if they’re royalty around the place.

“Hello to you too, Gigi.” Ning answers her, not affected by her dismissal in the slightest. Your best friend gestures to the other girls, then, giving your hand a squeeze. Even though it wasn’t needed anymore, she was still holding on to you. “Those are Karina and Winter.” They bow slightly, acknowledging your presence. “Girls, this is Y/n”.

The trio share a knowing look at the mention of your name. As if a spell had been cast upon them, the girls are all over you, swirling, giggling and speaking all at once.

“It was about time we met you, Y/n”. Winter giggles, resting her head on Karina’s shoulder.

“Right?” Giselle shakes her head, suddenly interested in the conversation, with her condescending tone. “Took Ningning long enough to bring you to the Underworld.”

The Underworld. The name alone is enough for you to shiver, shrinking under your oversized jacket. Like a reflex, you turn to your best friend, brows furrowed and mind seeking for answers. “The Underworld?”

As soon as she opens her mouth to explain, she’s dragged away by Karina, who sighs. “Tell her all about it later, Ningning. Giselle was right, you really are late, and we have to enroll you in today’s race right now.”

Ning stares at Winter with a serious look, waiting until the bob-haired girl nods to leave. “Take care of her while I’m gone.” Shooting you an apologetic look, Ning follows Karina to the heart of the crowd, not at all uncomfortable as you lose her amidst the sea of unknown faces.

You’ve been warned about such places before, ones where people go to lose themselves and do things they shouldn’t. Even though it’s dark, you’re able to see what every group is occupying themselves with, always good to notice details in a crowd. Some drinking, smoking, others doing drugs that were too explicit for such an open space. Many people acted borderline pornographic, too, engaged in heavy make out sessions and touching places that had you looking away, too embarrassed to lurk.

“I’ll go breathe some air.” You tell Winter, who’s now sitting on the hood of the car, furiously typing on a computer as big as her head. She must’ve grabbed it from the passenger’s seat while you were busy looking around, horrified.

You expect her to protest, specially since Ning had been clear in her words, but the small girl doesn’t even look at you for more than three seconds before answering, still heavily focused on the screen that lights her face. “Okay.”

Before she’s even finished, you turn around and dodge people as best as you can, barging towards the woods located on the edge of the road without hesitation. You walk until the lively event is just a faint noise, crippling your ears like a bug on a hot, sticky day.

Now, being able to breathe the cold air properly and free from the demons of the night, you try to understand your best friend. Ning has always been a free spirit, independent and strong-willed. But, while her wild nature did stir up some trouble in your community, she’s always been welcomed and loved. That’s how a family worked, right? You might fight, but you also sort things out, eventually.

The sound of dry leafs being stepped on startles you, but you’re soon at ease once you see Ningning’s silhouette coming out of the darkness. She sits by your side, both looking at the moon instead of facing each other.

She must be afraid too, you reckon. Of you judging her choices, turning your back on her like her family did, the moment she changed her attitude.

Well, you did judge, but you’d never leave her alone. You love her too much to do so, even if you couldn’t quite understand her ulterior motives.

Ning looks beautiful under the moonlight, her long hair shiny as she plays with her own fingers, hesitant to speak up. Her hair is one of the last things she’s kept true to herself after this sudden change. You let your hands run through, reminiscing the times when, not matter how impatient, she’d let you comb and style it.

Such memories must’ve been going through her mind, too, in a reassurance of the bond you shared. Gathering courage, she turned her face to you, smiling faintly.

“Ilegal fights and street races. That’s what we do here in the underworld, that’s what it’s about.” Ning keeps you from interrupting her, already aware of what you’re going to ask. “I’ve seen people do some darker shit, yeah, like drugs and stuff, but the girls and I stay far away from that. It’s not something you can deal with without falling into a hole, you know. And I’m not trying to dig myself a grave or anything.”

You breathe in deeply, acknowledging everything she’s said. It’s like you’re walking on thin ice: one phrase worded wrongly, and she’d shut herself off from you for good.

So you choose the safest route. “And… the girls? You, hm, you all race?”

Ning relaxes instantly at your words. Her shoulders fall off, glad you didn’t start screaming at her or try to brainwash her guts. She expected a far worse reaction.

Shaking her head, her tone is a little more excited as she answers. “I’m the only racer of the group. Giselle fixes the mechanics, Winter does the stats, and Karina handles the bets and closes off the deals. They are my girls, Y/n. My family.”

You stand up, unconsciously walking around in little circles as you try to think of the right words to not scare off your best friend. The truth is, this whole Underworld thing was not only scary — it terrified you to know Ning had found herself in such a place. She needs to think through all of this situation, and realize she’s losing herself badly, walking into a path set for destruction. She needs help, and she so desperately needs to come to her true senses. You have to save Ning from herself, and you’d do just that.

“We’ll take you back.” The words come out without you really thinking them through, not at all as careful as you wish to be. You turn around completely to face Ning, only to find her already staring, her big eyes as cloudy as ever. “We know you’re sorry, Ning, it’s ok. Just… let us go back, then it will all be just like before.”

She lifts her brows and takes a few steps towards you, not stopping until you’re trapped, back hitting the trunk of a tree.

“I’m not sorry for what I’ve done, Y/n.” She’s angry, and you hate seeing her mad. Specially at you. Ning never got mad at you. “I’m sorry that we were born in this shitty ass town with so many rich fuckers, and I’m sorry that stupid community has brainwashed you so much they can control you as they please. I apologize for being distant because I know it hurts you, but besides that, I’ve done nothing wrong.”

She’s breathless from speaking with such fervor, both of her hands placed on each of your sides so you have no way of escaping.

And even though you gulp, you force your body to not have any fear. It’s Ningning: your best friend, your soulmate. She’d never hurt you.

She’d never.

“Ning.” You look down, failing to hide the tremor in your voice. “Ning, let me go.”

Something in her eyes shift the moment she noticed the fear in your voice. Her pupils are wide blown, and her smile is just wrong, staring at you from head to toe. Suddenly, you’re hyper aware of the wind messing with your very short dress, and how hot you feel, despite the cool weather.

Somehow, you get the feeling she’s thinking the same thing, too. Time stops as her eyes fall to your lips, and she’s on top of you in a blink. Kissing, tugging, licking… Ning’s desperation is something you can taste, and it’s written all over. This kiss is not like the sweet, chaste experiences you’ve had before. Ning kisses you like a woman starved, taking until there’s no air left, and your lungs are burning, claiming for relief.

Her kiss is venomous, so sinful you fear what you’d do if you experience it again.

“W-what the fuck, Ning! Why’d you do that?” You manage to say, crossing your arms over your chest to try to get some distance between you. “This wrong, Ning. This isn’t y—”

“Did they send you here?” She ignores your words completely, hands assaulting your body as you try to move against her. “Is that it? Are they that fucking desperate, really?”

Perhaps you’re weak, or maybe she’s been putting some work in the gym, but the truth is she doesn’t move an inch, no matter how much try to pull her away. If anything, it only brings her closer to you, that wicked smirk still on her face.

“What? They… no! Of course not. I came because I want to understand you.” Her accusations hurt, even though you know she’s not entirely wrong.

The truth is, Ning’s too smart for her own good.

Surprisingly, her fingers are delicate as they brush one of your shoulders, playing with your dress sleeve before letting it slide midway, enough for it to expose yourself to the dark night. You shiver, not only due to the winds that cause your nipples to harden, but also because of the girl who stares at you like she’s gone mad. She’s salivating, and you watch her every breath until she lowers her head and latches her mouth onto one of your boobs, her teeth teasingly picking on your nipples.

It’s as if you’ve been electrocuted. Your back arches, and you try even harder to let go of the hand that’s keeping yours clasped together so tightly it hurts, but you can’t set yourself free. Did her touches always feel like that? So wrong, yet so… good, you look forward to more?

“Stop, p-please. Ning, my b-boyfriend…” It’s all you’re able to mutter, choosing to keep your mouth shut. You’re too afraid of the sounds that might come out of your lips if you continue speaking.

You’ve never felt like this before. This tingling sensation, erupting to all your body — specially to your core. The warmth that eloped your body like you were too close to the sun. It felt good, Ning’s touches are so good you itch with need.

It’s no surprise you’ve touched yourself before. You were no saint, either. However, it has never felt anything close to that. You would never be able to mimic Ning’s hands, cupping your breasts, pinching your waist, forcefully opening your legs to keep her knee seated between them… all while still trapping you, the burning sensation in your hands serving as a lively reminder of the situation you were currently in.

“Your boyfriend, yes. That fucking idiot.” Ning’s hands go straight to the hem of your shorts, forcing them down. “He’s never touched you like that, right Y/n? Surely, you’d tell me. I’m your best friend, after all.”

Tears start to cloud your vision as her hands pull down your shorts, fingers going all the way under your dress to find the bare skin of your abdomen. She scratches it slightly, even though you find yourself still struggling vigorously against her touches.

“Ning, you don’t know what you’re doing. I’m sorry, please s-stop…” Ning huffs, annoyed by your attempts to get her off you.

“No, Y/n. I know exactly what I’m doing.” She laughs as her teeth scratch your shoulder, and then she bites. It’s so unexpected you scream, ashamed to admit that her harsh touches are the reason your insides are embarrassingly wet. “I bet you’ve touched yourself thinking of me, too. God, Y/n. You act like you’re this good little example to others, but I know you better than anyone. You’re such a dirty, hungry whore.”

Ning’s wet mouth leaves a trail of saliva on your skin as you stop moving against her chest. Instead, you let your head rest on the corner of her neck, biting your mouth so hard you feel the metallic taste of blood in your tongue. Ning notices it, too — her eyes have never stopped observing you attentively, not from the moment she’s met you for the first time. Grabbing your neck possessively, she pulls you in for another hungry, aggressive kiss, her tongue forcing its way over your mouth until your taste was all hers to delight herself with, too.

Without an alibi to hide your pleasure, you moan against her lips, chest moving rapidly with the adrenaline. You feel her smile, too.

This doesn't seem right, in any way. Your best friend, forcing you to surrender against her wishes and talking to you like you were nothing… it is all wrong, deeply wrong.

But why is she making you feel so alive? Why is the burning sensation that expands over every inch of your skin so addicting?

If it’s so wrong, why does it feel so good?

“Does he touch you like this?” Ning asks with a sultry tone, as her fingers toy with your folds. The anticipation drives you insane, only intensifying your arousal. You gasp at the sensation of her fingers in your cunt, hovering and so close to where you need her. Your silence irritates her, clearly. “Answer me, whore.”

Her hands, God — her hands leave your cunt so quickly and reach out for your throat, squeezing on your pulse point with such precision you nearly cum on the spot. You feel lightheaded, unable to think about anything but how alive Ning makes you feel. In fact, it’s her touches that ground you again, reminding you of what is happening.

She kisses your jaw, her tone dripping with fake-sweetness as she murmurs. “Tell me what I already know, Y/n. Say it.”

With that, you’re aware of your current situation: Ning’s getting inside your head, distracting you with pleasure until you’re dumbed down enough to surrender to her wishes.

When did she become so evil?

“Stop— touching me.” You say, turning your head away from her. Still, you can’t help but obey, even though your voice is barely audible as you add. “You know the answer, already.”

Ning’s hand slides through your body, taking her time to grope, scratch and pinch as she pleases until she’s cupping your cunt again, her motion too sweet for the harsh way she’s been acting towards you. Two of her fingers go to your slit, taking all the air from your longs as she shoves them in and out slowly, savoring the sensation both for herself and for you. And you’re wet— so much her fingers slide easily, despite your lack of experience. It’s as though time had stopped: the animals have stopped making noises, the wind has stopped humming and all the people at the street have quieted. All you can hear is Ning’s breathing, just as erratic as you, and the lewd sounds coming out from your cunt.

It feels so good, you wonder how you've lived all this time without Ningning touching you like that. Like you were a secret gemstone she was more than ready to unravel.

“If you want me to stop touching you, then why are you so fucking wet?” She asks, cocky as you whimper under her. Your legs feel like jelly, and suddenly you’re so glad for the tree you’re relying on, and Ning’s leg between your thighs, forcing them open. “No, Y/n. You know damn well what you want. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.” Her following words are what break you. As your thumb meets your clit, she adds, “You’re as rotten as me, filthy girl. I just choose not to run from myself anymore.”

You want to deny it. There’s nothing more you want than to pull Ning back and scream at her face, talking about how insufferable she’s become and how much of an asshole she was. But your brain has long been turned into mush, focused on only one thing: gathering the crippling sensation that was forming in your lower abdomen and let it explode, turning it into a mind-blowing wave of pleasure. It’s all you’ve ever wanted: to cum. Nothing else really matters.

You don’t even recognize yourself, clinging onto Ning as if your life depended on it. Her skilled fingers don’t stop their motion on your slit as her thumb applies more pressure to your clit, circling it harshly, so fast it makes your eyes roll to the back of your skull with pleasure. It feels unlike anything you’ve ever felt before: every inch of your body boils, and you’ve never wanted so bad to just explode.

Faint screams fill the background, with Ning’s name being called repeatedly, surely from the girls looking for her. However, you don’t pay them any mind. The only sounds coming out of your mouth are loud, sinful moans — the most beautiful melody to Ning’s ears.

“N-ning…” You whine, carving your nails onto your best friend’s skin. Sweat gathers in your forehead as you feel your orgasm close, but you’re too stubborn to say anything to her.

Ning knows you well, though. Your muscles tense, and you cum as she keeps her strokes hard and fast, just what you need to explode into waves of pleasure. It hits so good you scream, legs shaking as she holds you as if you weight nothing, keeping you from falling onto the dust. White dots dance around your vision, fireworks exploding inside you as the orgasm washes through your body, in rhythmic waves of pleasure.

It was borderline addicting.

“Ningning! There you are, fucker. We’ve been looking for ages.” Karina’s body appears from the darkness, her impeccable frame easy to distinguish from anything else. You’re so fucked out it takes you a few seconds to register her presence. By then, Ning has already covered you, adjusting your dress back on with precise movements. “Don’t be irresponsible just because of some pussy! You’re up in five, come on.”

You don’t miss the way Karina’s eyes stare at your body, not an ounce of shame in her pretty face. However, you don’t feel ashamed to have her attention on you. If anything, you can feel your face blushing, your body slowly feeling hot again.

Lust is a dangerous thing, indeed.

Ning doesn’t miss Karina’s cue either, judging by the way she scoffs. Dismissing her with an annoyed tone, Ning mutters, “I said I was coming.” She gestures to the trees and the wild bushes, then. “You can lead the way.”

Karina laughs, not missing her last opportunity to address you, as she turns around and waves. “Bye, Y/n. I hope you’re around more often.”

You giggle, too, amazed by how she camouflages herself so easily, lost amidst the night and the forest.

Still, the girl in front of you captures all of your attention. Like always, she’s already staring, her brown hair messy from your making out.

“This is the real world, Y/n. I’m not going back.” She says, not leaving any space for discussion. You know that tone too well; Ning’s already made her choice, and it wasn’t the one you wanted her to pick. With big, sad eyes, she adds, “I wish you would free yourself, too.”

Her delicate tone breaks your heart. Deep down, you know she means it. Ning’s following what she believes in, and she wishes she could share her world with you, too.

She walks away without looking back, sure of who she was and what she wanted for her future.

With a heavy sigh, you follow her towards the highway once again.

You’d follow her through it all.

#sol writes #kpop x reader #kpop smut #kpop x y/n #aespa x fem reader #aespa smut #aespa x reader #aespa x yn #aespa x you #ningning x reader #ningning smut #ning yizhuo smut #ning yizhuo x reader #ning yizhuo x yn #ning smut #s.writes

566 notes · View notes

pucksandpower · 1 year ago

Text

Eurovisionaries

Charles Leclerc x Monegasque singer!Reader

Summary: the “Charles Leclerc competes in Eurovision” fic no one asked for but I wrote anyway

Warnings: none that I can think of

“Why is Charles Leclerc trending in the music section?” You wonder aloud, eyes narrowing as you see the pop-up notification on your Twitter.

Opening the app, you’re met with a tweet from an official Eurovision updates account: “🇲🇨 #Monaco: Eligible to Compete in the #Eurovision Song Contest 2024.” Below it, Charles Leclerc, Monaco’s pride and F1 sensation extraordinaire, has replied to the tweet with a sly “I’m ready 🎤.”

You can’t help but laugh. The thought of Charles taking the Eurovision stage is hilarious. You respond to the tweet, “Ever considered a duet? Though I would advise keeping your day job for now 🏎️😉.” Notifications instantly start pouring in, a flurry of likes and retweets.

Your phone buzzes, a call from your manager, Rosa. “Did you see the Leclerc tweet?” She starts without preamble.

“Of course. The entire principality probably has by now,” you chuckle, imagining the reactions of Monegasque citizens.

Silence. A beat too long.

“What?” You probe, sensing her hesitance.

Rosa exhales deeply, “The Monegasque Eurovision committee called me.”

You sit up, “About the tweet?”

“More than that. They’re seriously considering him.”

“For Eurovision?” You're incredulous, “He’s a racer, not a singer.”

She hesitates, “That’s where you come in.”

A long pause ensues. The weight of her words settles around you. Rosa is never one for jokes, especially when it comes to your career.

“They want you to team up with him,” she continues, breaking the silence, “He can compose and play but they need a voice. Your voice.”

The gravity of the situation dawns on you. Representing Monaco in Eurovision is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity but with Charles? Someone you’ve only admired from afar on the circuit?

“What if it doesn’t work out?” You voice your concerns. “Our styles, our personalities ... they could clash.”

“It’s a risk, yes. But it’s also an opportunity. Both for your career and for Monaco,” Rosa reasons.

You look out of the window, the streets of Monaco stretching below. The pride of representing your nation battles with the uncertainty of this potentially bizarre partnership.

“I need some time, Rosa,” you whisper.

She understands. “Take all the time you need. But remember, some of the best things in life come from taking the most unexpected turns.”

As you hang up, Charles’ tweet flashes on your screen again, the confident smile in his profile picture making you wonder if this journey is one you should embark on.

***

“Are you sitting down?” Rosa’s voice is tense, filled with an urgency you rarely hear from her.

You shuffle around in your apartment, finding a chair by the window. “I am now. What’s up?”

She takes a deep breath, her exhale echoing over the line. “The committee’s made their decision. They want Charles Leclerc for Eurovision.”

You almost drop your phone. “You’re joking.”

“I wish I was,” she replies, her tone betraying her surprise as much as yours. “And they want you to partner with him.”

The world seems to blur around you. Images of the grand Eurovision stage, the cheering crowds, and a sea of flags swirl through your mind, and the idea of standing there, alongside someone like Charles, is surreal.

“This is ...” you trail off, searching for words.

“Insane? Unprecedented? A media goldmine?” Rosa supplies, ever the pragmatist.

“All of the above.” The weight of the offer hangs between you, punctuated by the distant sounds of Monaco outside your window.

“What did you tell them?” You ask, after a moment of heavy silence.

“I told them we’d think about it,” Rosa says. “But darling, this is huge. For your career, for Charles, for Monaco!”

You sigh, pressing a hand to your forehead. “I’ve never even met him. What if we don’t click? What if we can’t perform together? What if—”

“What if you soar?” Rosa interrupts gently. “What if this is the push both of you need?”

You consider her words, the promise they hold. But the fear remains. “What if I fall?”

Rosa’s voice softens. “Then you get back up, just as you always have. But you won’t be doing it alone. You’ll have all of Monaco behind you.”

The conversation weighs on you long after you’ve hung up. Charles Leclerc, Monaco’s golden boy, and you? It feels like a dream, one you’re not sure you want to wake up from.

That night, as Monaco’s lights twinkle beneath your apartment, a notification lights up your phone. An email with an official Monegasque Eurovision committee letterhead:

We are pleased to extend to you an official invitation to represent Monaco at the Eurovision Song Contest 2024 in an act alongside Charles Leclerc. Details to follow.

The reality sets in. And it terrifies and thrills you in equal measure.

***

“Are you the singer?” The voice unmistakably belongs to Charles, though softer than the confident tone you’ve heard in his interviews.

You turn, your heart doing a tiny flip. He’s leaning against a grand piano in the center of the room, looking more perfect in casual jeans and a t-shirt than he has any right to. You have to remind yourself to breathe for a moment.

“Are you the racer?” You shoot back, attempting to mask your nervousness with humor.

He laughs, “Touche.”

Both of you approach the piano, the room filled with an almost tangible tension. He extends a hand. “Charles.”

You shake it, feeling the calloused fingertips, likely from handling the wheel so often. “I know. And you probably don’t know me, but ... it’s Y/N.”

“I’ve heard your songs on YouTube,” he admits, releasing your hand. “You have an incredible voice.”

“Thanks,” you murmur, surprised and flattered. “You … drive really fast?”

He laughs again, easing some of the tension. “I try.”

The two of you start the rehearsal, with Charles taking the lead on the piano. The notes are hauntingly beautiful, full of emotion. You find yourself getting lost in the music, your voice blending seamlessly with the tune.

But suddenly, Charles stops playing. “Sorry,” he says, a hint of frustration in his voice. “I’m not used to this. Playing in front of someone.”

You blink, taken aback. “You’re not used to performing?”

“Not like this. Racing, I get. This is … different,” he confesses, running a hand through his hair.

You nod, understanding his fear. “Let’s take it slow. We have time.”

He looks up, his eyes searching yours. “Do we? Eurovision is just around the corner and I will be away a lot of the time for races.”

You take a deep breath. “Every journey starts with a single step. Let’s just focus on today.”

You play and sing for hours, taking breaks when needed. The connection, while still tentative, starts to form. By the end of the session, a shaky version of your Eurovision song emerges.

“I think … I think we could actually pull this off,” Charles admits as you pack up.

“With a lot more practice,” you reply, smiling.

He grins, the confidence you expected from him back in full form. “Challenge accepted.”

Walking out of the studio, you can’t help but feel a tiny flutter of excitement. This partnership, as unlikely as it seemed, might just work.

***

“I’ve never been to this bistro,” Charles admits, looking around the quaint little place you’ve chosen.

“It’s a hidden gem. My little escape in Monaco,” you reply, sipping your tea. “Sometimes the noise of the city gets too much.”

He nods, fidgeting slightly. “I get that. For me, it’s the track. I love racing but our world can become ... suffocating sometimes.”

The vulnerability in his words surprises you. You’d always seen Charles as a fearless driver, not a man who needed an escape.

“You know,” you start, “I always thought you loved the thrill, the fame.”

He chuckles, but there’s a shadow in his eyes. “I love racing. The fame, not so much. I love the fans. I love Ferrari. But it’s overwhelming at times. Especially when the car is underperforming.”

You feel a connection in that moment, the shared weight of expectations. “Music is my escape. But sometimes, the pressure to always be on, to always perform ... it’s draining.”

He looks at you, a new understanding dawning in his eyes. “I never thought about it that way. We’re really quite similar, aren’t we?”

The conversation flows naturally after that, moving from work to personal interests. You discover shared hobbies, like a love for old movies, and differing opinions, like his disdain for pineapple on pizza which you adore.

“Pineapple on pizza is a crime,” he declares, feigning outrage.

“You have no taste!” You retort, laughing.

The afternoon slips away, the two of you lost in conversation. It feels like two old friends catching up, not two professionals thrown together by fate.

As you leave the bistro, Charles hesitates. “Would you like to come to a race sometime? See the action up close?”

You smile, touched by the offer. “Only if you come to one of my performances.”

He grins, “Deal.”

In the days that follow, your rehearsals gain a new depth. The newfound friendship seeps into your music, turning the notes and lyrics into pure emotion. The song evolves, reflecting the story of two individuals finding harmony in the most unexpected place.

Rosa notices the change too. “There’s a spark,” she comments one day, after a particularly moving session. “Both in the music and between you two.”

You blush, dismissing her with a wave. “It’s just the music.”

But as the days blur into nights and rehearsals become more intense, you can’t help but wonder if there’s truth in Rosa’s words.

***

“Is it always this chaotic?” Charles whispers, leaning close so only you can hear as you both step backstage of a popular talk show. Bright lights, cameras, and a bustling crew create a vibrant atmosphere of controlled chaos.

“Welcome to my world,” you reply with a smirk, feeling the familiar adrenaline of a live performance. “A bit different from the paddock, isn’t it?”

His eyes sparkle with mischief. “Just a tad.”

A producer approaches, positioning you and Charles for the interview. As you settle onto the couch, Charles’ arm grazes yours, sending an unexpected jolt of warmth up your arm.

The host, a vivacious woman named Martina, begins, “We have Monaco’s sensational Eurovision duo with us today! Charles Leclerc and Y/N Y/L/N. Tell us, how has this partnership been?”

Charles shoots you a glance. “Unexpected at first, certainly. But every moment has been an adventure. We’ve learned from each other and it is reflected in our music.”

You nod, adding, “It’s been a blend of two worlds. And the result is something neither of us anticipated but we have come to love.”

Martina’s gaze flits between both of you, sensing the underlying tension. “There’s undeniable chemistry between you two. It’s clear to me even now. Is there something you’re not telling us?”

Your heart races and you see Charles shift uncomfortably. The question, though posed in jest, holds an element of truth that neither of you has addressed.

“We’re focused on our music and representing Monaco to the best of our abilities,” Charles replies smoothly but the tips of his ears redden.

Martina, sensing a scoop, presses on, “But off the stage? Any sparks?”

You force a laugh, trying to diffuse the situation. “We’re just getting to know each other. Our priority is Eurovision.”

Once off the set, Charles runs a hand through his hair, a gesture you’ve come to recognize as his way of dealing with stress. “That was intense.”

“It’s just the beginning. The closer we get to Eurovision, the more questions like that we’ll get.”

He stops, turning to face you, his eyes intense. “What if there is some truth to their questions?”

The air grows thick, the world narrowing to just the two of you. “Charles ...”

He takes a step closer, his voice dropping. “I can’t ignore it anymore. Every time we’re together, there is this pull.”

Your breath catches, the confession echoing your own feelings. “I feel it too. But right now, everything is so complicated.”

He nods, looking defeated. “I know. Let’s just ... focus on the music for now.”

***

“Are these feathers?” Charles asks, a touch of panic evident as he examines the ornate costume handed to him.

“Welcome to Eurovision,” you say with a wry smile, adjusting the shimmering fabric of your own dress which seems to be a riot of sequins and colors, reflecting the vibrant spirit of the competition.

He chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “This is a bit different from my usual race suit.”

You laugh, playfully nudging him. “Just wait till you see the pyrotechnics.”

The two of you stand backstage as acts from different countries, each more extravagant than the last, parade before you. The dazzling array of costumes, the eccentric set designs, and the sheer scale of the event are overwhelming.

Charles, sensing your nervousness, takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ve got this.”

You nod, leaning into his touch. The tension between the two of you has only grown, making moments like these all the more intense.

Suddenly, a voice announces, “Next up, representing Monaco, please welcome Charles Leclerc and Y/N Y/L/N!”

Your heart rate spikes. Charles leads you to the stage, the grand piano at its center surrounded by a sea of lights creating an ethereal atmosphere.

He starts playing, the haunting melody echoing in the cavernous venue. As you join in with your vocals, the world seems to fade away. It’s just the two of you, lost in the music.

The song builds to its climax. You move closer to Charles, the emotional depth of the lyrics pulling you in. The final note lingers and you find yourself drawn to him, your faces mere inches apart.

The audience, sensing the electricity between the two of you, erupts in a frenzy of cheers, pulling you back to reality. You share a charged glance with Charles, the applause deafening.

The performance, though only a few minutes, feels like a lifetime. As you walk off stage, Charles wraps an arm around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. “We did it.”

You bury your face in his chest, the heady mix of adrenaline and emotions making everything feel surreal. “We really did.”

***

“And the winner of the Eurovision Song Contest 2024 is ...” The host’s voice draws out, adding to the tension in the room, “Monaco!”

The words hit you like a tidal wave. The arena explodes in applause and cheers, bright lights flashing everywhere. Confetti starts to fall and the air is pure magic.

Charles, equally stunned, turns to you, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Is this real?” He breathes, pulling you into a tight embrace.

Overwhelmed, you cling to him, the weight of your accomplishment settling in. You won Eurovision.

Breaking the hug, Charles lifts you in sheer joy, spinning you around, the world blurring past. Both of you are laughing, tears of joy mingling with the glitter on your face.

As the celebrations continue, you spot the Italian competitors cheering raucously. Somehow, they’ve managed to pull out a Ferrari flag, waving it as proudly as if they had won.

Charles notices too, laughing. “They really do love their racing.”

You smirk, nudging him playfully. “Or maybe they just love their racer.”

The moment is interrupted as you’re whisked away for the winner’s interview and your encore. But the mania doesn’t stop the two of you from sharing stolen glances and smiles.

Later that night, as the euphoria begins to die down, Charles finds you on a balcony overlooking the city. “It’s a lot, isn’t it?” He murmurs, joining you by the railing.

You nod, taking a deep breath. “Winning was the dream. I didn’t think about what would come after.”

He chuckles, “You and me both.”

The night stretches before you, the city lights twinkling like stars. You lean into Charles, drawing comfort from his presence. “What now?”

He takes a moment to think. “Now, we take on the world together.”

***

“I wrote something last night,” Charles says hesitantly. The two of you sit in his apartment, the aftermath of your Eurovision win still a fresh memory.

You tilt your head, intrigued. “For the piano?”

He nods. “But it’s more personal than anything else I’ve composed. I was thinking ... maybe you could add lyrics to it?”

Curious, you watch as he moves to the piano he has against the wall, his fingers delicately dancing on the keys. The melody is raw, filled with emotion. It speaks of longing, of new beginnings, of unspoken feelings.

It’s beautiful.

“That’s incredible,” you breathe once he finishes.

He looks up, vulnerability evident in his eyes. “It's how I feel. About all of this. About you.”

The confession hangs in the air, a delicate thread connecting the two of you.

“I’ve been feeling the same,” you admit, your heart racing. “I wrote some lyrics too. But I didn’t have the melody for them. Maybe ...”

You share the words you penned down, the emotions you felt towards Charles clear as day. Together, the two of you create a song, a musical odyssey of the path you’ve walked together and the deepening connection between you.

Hours pass, the world outside forgotten. The song takes shape, evolving with every note and word.

Charles breaks the silence, his voice soft, “This is special.”

You nod, feeling the weight of the moment. “It is.”

He moves closer, the space between you disappearing. “Every moment with you is.”

Your heart flutters, the intensity of his gaze making you breathless. “Charles ...”

But he silences you with a gentle touch, his fingers brushing your cheek. The world seems to stand still as he leans in, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

It’s a new beginning, a promise of what’s to come.

***

“I’m so nervous,” you confess, wringing your hands. The roar of the crowd outside, waiting for the Monaco Grand Prix to begin, is deafening.

Charles pulls you into a comforting hug. “It’s just singing the national anthem. You’ve performed on much bigger stages.”

“But not in front of the entire racing community and Monegasque royalty,” you counter. The idea of serenading the beginning of Monaco’s most prestigious race, especially with Charles being one of the contenders, fills you with anxiety.

He smirks. “You’re worrying about a three-minute song when I have to race for nearly two hours?”

You punch his arm playfully, “Oh, hush. You love it too much to complain.”

His expression turns serious and he takes your hands in his. “It’s just like any other performance but this time, for our people. Focus on that.”

His words sink in. You’re not just singing for the crowd. You’re singing for Monaco. For Charles.

As you step out, the sun glints off the polished cars lined up for the race. The noise is deafening but one look at Charles, his eyes filled with pride, grounds you.

Drawing a deep breath, you begin. Your voice, clear and strong, rises above the commotion, capturing the spirit of Monaco. The crowd falls silent, lost in the beauty of the moment.

When you finish, the applause is thunderous. Charles rushes over, lifting you off the ground in a bear hug. “That was incredible,” he whispers in your ear.

You laugh, the tension from before dissipating. “Now go win the race.”

He winks. “Only if you promise to sing for me every time.”

***

“Do you ever think about what would’ve happened if I hadn’t tweeted that day?” Charles muses, lying next to you on a grassy hill overlooking the city. The stars twinkle above, the night air filled with the scent of blooming flowers.

You chuckle softly, turning to face him. “I would probably be preparing for another solo concert but not much would change for you. You’d still be busy reveling in your racing glory.”

He grins, playfully nudging you. “So you admit I brought excitement to your life?”

You roll your eyes. “Excitement, chaos, media frenzy ... take your pick.”

Silence settles between you two, comfortable yet filled with words unspoken. The city lights below seem distant, the world reduced to just this moment.

Charles breaks the silence. “I can’t imagine my life without you now.”

The vulnerability in his voice tugs at your heart. “Neither can I. It’s been a wild ride.”

He chuckles, pulling you closer. “A ride I would relive in a heartbeat.”

“Charles,” you begin, gathering your thoughts, “we’ve been through so much together and I cherish every moment. But we also need to think about our future. The media attention, the expectations ... it’s a lot.”

He nods, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I know. But we'll face it together. Like we have from the start.”

The promise in his voice fills you with warmth. “Together,” you echo, sealing the commitment.

***

“You’re not serious,” Silvia’s voice cuts through the room. “It’s the biggest sponsorship event of the season. For Ferrari! You can’t miss it.”

Charles looks torn, running a hand through his hair. “It’s Y/N’s first major solo concert. She’s been there for me, every step of the way. I need to be there for her.”

You feel a pang of guilt. “Charles, I understand the importance. If you can’t make it—”

He interrupts, looking you straight in the eyes. “This isn’t just about the concert. It’s about us. About our priorities.”

The room is thick with tension. On your side, Rosa, always the mediator, attempts to defuse the situation. “There must be a way to do both.”

Charles shakes his head resolutely. “I’ve made up my mind.”

Silvia looks at him, her eyes pleading. “You know the implications of this, right?”

He nods, swallowing hard. “I do. However mad the sponsor may be will be worth it.”

Later, the two of you find a quiet corner.

“You didn’t have to,” you whisper.

He pulls you close, his touch reassuring. “But I wanted to. More than anything.”

You look up, eyes glassy. “Why?”

“Because,” he starts, searching for the right words, “these races, these events ... they will always be there. But moments like your concert, they are once in a lifetime. And I don’t want to miss a single second of our journey together.”

The emotion of his words takes your breath away. “Charles ...”

He places a finger on your lips, silencing you. “I love you.”

The words hang in the air. Voice choked with emotion, you reply. “I love you too.”

***

“Do you ever think how surreal all of this is?” Charles murmurs, both of you backstage at the 2025 Eurovision finals, invited back as guest performers. The arena pulsates with excitement, the memories of your victorious performance still fresh in many minds.

You laugh, adjusting your dress. “Every single day. Especially today, coming full circle.”

He takes your hand, the spark between you as electric as ever. “It feels like just yesterday we were thrown into this wild ride.”

A stagehand signals that it’s almost time. The two of you take your positions, the familiar chords of your winning song filling the air. The audience roars in approval, their cheers echoing the joy of that fateful night.

As the final note lingers, you turn to Charles, preparing for the bows. But he isn’t sitting behind the piano. Instead, he’s down on one knee, a small velvet box in hand.

The realization hits you like a tidal wave, your hand flying to your mouth in shock.

Charles speaks loud enough for the world to hear, “From the moment we met, I knew my life had changed forever. I can’t imagine a day without you by my side. Will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?”

Tears stream down your face, every emotion amplified. “Yes. I want that more than anything,” you manage to whisper.

He slips the ring onto your finger and the world fades away as his lips find yours. You see the Italian delegation cheering wildly out of the corner of your eye and can’t help but laugh. The hosts may have changed. The competitors may have changed. But the love of Italians for il Predestinato will always live on. They’ll have to get in line, though. You just officially claimed the title of his biggest fan.

1K notes · View notes